Cherie Thiessen

So I was cursing this slow driver in front of me, riding his bumper and preparing to give him the finger when it suddenly hit me. I can’t afford to do that sort of thing on Pender Island. People on an island have a way of coming around again. The fellow I swear at today may be fixing my toilet tomorrow. The kid who’s jaywalking in front of me might be one of my husband’s students.

Have you any idea of what it’s like to never be able to give vent to your frustrations on the road? To have to be a nice motorist all the time? Not to be able to cut somebody off, terrorize a grandmother, shake your fist at a kid? And imagine having to be nice everywhere - not just on the road. I mean smiling when you buy the milk, when you pick up the newspaper, when you go for the mail, because wherever you go, people are going to know you.

This means if you look last last December’s woodpile, and you don’t want anyone to see you, you’ve got to stay home. If you’re in a rotten mood and can’t bear to even pry your lips open to speak, let alone smile, then you’ve got to stay home.

Kind of forces you to work on your personality and outlook, doesn’t it?

Having realized this, re-formed my scowl into a twisted smile and my obscene gesture into a vertical wave, I respectfully passed the slow driver and at the same time was flashed with an insight.

So that’s why people have dogs!

Think of this. People have to be nice but their dogs can bark and snarl as much as they want to. It must be a real pleasure to be able to listen to your dog doing what you can’t, haranguing and threatening those noisy workers across the road putting in new pipes, for example.

A noisy dog is a perfectly acceptable way of saying "get lost" to passersby and neighbours, "get out of my way" to pedestrians, a way of expressing all those negative feelings you harbor. Even the sign "Beware of Dog" is acceptable.

"What kind of person doesn’t like dogs?" you may be wondering. Well I have another confession. Now I have my doubts about cats too.

Island living has made a nature lover out of me. I get off on trees and their dwindling residents. I become heady with the smell of dandelions and a colourful fireweed stalk sends me into spasms of joy. I’ve accepted the fact that I don’t own this piece of land - I’m its custodian. It’s getting harder and harder to hear a power saw, barking dog or even a lawn mower without a sense of loss!

I used to be a pushover for felines. You could always find dozens hanging out at my place in the city. Strays and hoboes passed out my address at the local SPCA. My address was splashed all over every back alley fence - a great place to crash.

But one afternoon here I heard a tree frog. Do you know how few of those little green guys we’ve got left in the world? I suddenly realized I hadn’t heard that sound for a very long time. What excitement. A frog had decided to come and live with me for a while, and maybe even bring up his family.

Then I met a garter snake checking out the back step for a nap. This encounter brought back all kinds of memories. About how we used to see snakes all the time in Vancouver when I was a kid. When did I lose sight of the fact that they had disappeared?

If that’s not enough, I’ve discovered hooded mergansers and rufous-sides towhees and nut hatches. You should see the lovely colours on the juncos.

Then as I watched the beautiful young tom from next door stalking the frog while his friend skulked in the bushes near the warbler’s nest, another insight came flashing at me, even more depressing than the first.

It was this: that these domestic pets which we love and cherish are our final assault against nature. What manages to cling to the trees and shrubs we leave when we sweep everything clear to build our homes, are finished off by our beloved pets.

Why can’t we love something for a change that isn’t ours, that goes beyond our households? Why can’t we extend the same love to the frog as we do to Fido or Puff. in fact instead of Food or Puff?

I now grant unconditional love and sanctuary to all wild creatures in my little space in the world, but not to domestic ones. I have become a monster who chases kittens and doesn’t like dogs.

And I thought island life would be simple!