Apres moi les deluge, said Maisy two seconds after we came home.

Poor Maisy has been ordered off her front paw for the next week. No walks, no picnics, no frisbee. Damn and blast.

Mayday and Maisy made acquaintance with her first butterfly of the spring. By stepping on it.

The big ugly dry that follows the enormous puddle at the end of winter. Maisy in her best Bartleby mood.

Rotting ice and floating dogshit. Lovely.

Seen today: hundreds of geese, a whole field, lifting off the golf course. Mama deer and two fawns with their spring-fluffy tails. Two beaver-bit trees near the river.

In honour of International Beaver Day. Thank you for your service, sir.