There's water in the Orari now.

Not much, but you'd be a fool to try to take it on with a four-wheel drive..

A bloke I know calls it a ''loose-bottomed bugger of a thing'', and he's not far wrong.

It's fairly narrow, with swales and rounded boulders, and washed clean by occasional high water.
In the lower reaches, where we walk, there is often no water.
There are, however, rabbits, and Jock and Tui often prove how slow they by trying to catch them.
It is futile.
Tui, now, will chase for a few moments and then gives up.
Jock - well, he is a terrier - tries a little longer, but he is no match for the speed and nimbleness of a rabbit, much less a hare.
They, too, share the riverbed, as do nesting birds, and there are signs warning dog owners to take care.
We do, and stick to defined tracks.
It is the tracks on the side of the river that take our attention.
Originally, they were access tracks for council staff, and then the local Lions got involved, with others, to develop the tracks, mostly for cycling.
They have done a wonderful job, and the tracks are used for an annual bike challenge (a very good fundraiser) and for walkers.
That's us.
At this time of year, the cooler weather has done its work and the tracks are carpeted with leaves of all colours, and they scatter and fall as the dogs play.
In one section, there are pines with low-hanging branches, under which is a thick layer of needles.
This is Tui and Jock's favourite place, and where they play their favourite game.
Jock hides under the low branches, way off the track, and then lets out one sharp yap.
That Tui's cue, and she tries to find him.
As she noses around, he darts hither and thither, always a step ahead.
After five minutes of trying to find - and catch him - she gives up, more interested in a one-on-one race.
She always wins.
This is what they did again today.
I've seen it a thousand times, and I smile every time.
Anyway, this is their stamping ground.

Great branches arch over the tracks that thread up and down the Orari.
Before the sun stretches into the sky, they are ghostly shadows.
The leaves rattle in any wind, so much that on a fine day it sounds as though it's raining.
This is where my dogs play.
You won't know them yet, so here we go.
Tui is a soppy border collie, all cuddles and leg rubs and very loyal.
Her best mate is a bristle-faced parson jack russell, Jock.
He's knee-high and programmed for fun.
They have come here every day in their short lives.
If it is not home, it is close.
They run here, they play hide and seek - yes, they do - they leap over branches, skirt under branches, race up the straights.
It's fair to say that life ain't half bad for these guys.
There has been only one days in their two-year-old lives when they have not been out - normally to the Orari - but sometimes they get to visit other parts of South Canterbury.
They've explored plantations, coursed through streams, scattered leaves on walking tracks and once, when it snowed, they made footprints in the snow in the local domain.
Strictly forbidden, of course.
Collies and jack russells might not be natural companions, but these guys make a fair fist of it.
They are not inseparable, and there have been arguments, but they have become so attuned to each other, that they know each other's games, weaknesses and strengths.
They have also surprised each other.
She's quicker in a straight line that Jock, by a wide margin, but he's a Mini to her Roller, swift into corners - and to stop.
She skids. He stops.
Time after time she has had to vault over him, crouching low.
Once, the collie's mind was more active than usual.
She slowed, then pressed herself to the ground, as though mesmerising stock.
He continued running, realised too late that she had stopped in his path, and decided the only way forward was up and over.
Had the collie not out-thought him, this manoeuvre would have been fine.
But as he was overhead, she raised her head enough to upset his flight.
He went into a somersault and landed on his feet to find his mate behind him.
He spun around to try to work out what had happened.
What had happened is that the collie beat him at his own game, and it is something she has tried again.
But jack russells aren't dim; he saw what was planned and, at a speed that startled the collie, he bore left, snaking through leaves to leave her without an overhead victim, and bemused.
It's like this every day with these guys.
Love 'em?
Oh yes.
This, then, is about them, the places we visit, and their influence on our lives.
It is profound.
Stay posted, folks.
We're off on an adventure.