On the Prowl
Pioneer Pets
by Bernadette Calonego
published in the Northern Pen
I have heard the following remark on the Northern Peninsula over and over again: “People don`t visit each other anymore like they used to.” When I ask why, there is often a shrug, followed by some hesitant explanation. Like this one: “Maybe because people prefer to stay at home and watch TV now.” Or: “Maybe they like their privacy more.”
Others say: “Maybe people can stay in touch with Skype or Facebook or Twitter and get to know that way what is going on.” I have also heard this: “Maybe they don`t feel so isolated anymore as they used to.” And: “Maybe they are too busy with other things and don`t have as much time for social visits anymore.”
Whatever the reason is, there is a shift in how people in remote areas interact with each other. You might like Facebook, or you might not like it. But it surely helps a lot of people to stay in touch with their fellow humans in bad weather. Some people told me that this winter, they were not even able to visit their neighbours during all this severe weather. They could not drive anywhere, with all these whiteouts and blizzards. There was nothing to do but to bunker down in their own four walls.
Pets are surely a comfort in these isolating situations.
Newfoundland came to my mind when I recently saw a photo exhibition at a museum in the bustling fishing town of Campbell River on Vancouver Island. It was called “Animals Among Us” and showed historic photos of pets from generations ago. Men in isolated logging camps had cats or dogs to keep them company. For families homesteading in remote areas, with no neighbours around for many miles, pets were important companions.
Some pioneers who could not get cats or dogs, raised even cougar or bear cubs whose mothers had been shot or had abandoned their young, as pets.
In some instances when humans lived alone in the wilderness, pets were crucial for them in order not to become mad in a life depraved of human contact. Pets kept these lonely people sane.
Of course there were no vets in these regions fifty or hundred years ago. One man whose dog`s stomach was slit open by a wild animal, took a sewing needle, put the intestine back in the dog`s tummy and sewed the animal up as best as he could. The dog survived miraculously. We would not do this anymore, but what can we do in the midst of winter on the Northern Peninsula, when the roads are blocked and we have an animal that needs a vet? Can we put our lives in danger driving a sick animal to the vet in Corner Brook? These are very difficult situations that we still share with our ancestors.
Unfortunately, it happens so often that when humans don’t need their pets anymore, or when life`s circumstances change, they abandon them like damaged goods or used toys. They try to persuade themselves that cats can survive in the wild by catching mice or other critters. Or they leave dogs behind, assuming that some kind-natured neighbour will deal with the poor animal.
I heard again and again that when the cod fishing moratorium came into effect in 1992, many peo-ple moved to other provinces and left their pets to their own devices. To make matters worse, the owners had the animals not fixed. One of the consequences of this careless behaviour are hundreds of cats living in outdoor “colonies”, the surviving ones breeding like crazy and multiplying like rabbits.
Humans cannot raise animals as pets for thousands of years and then pretend that they are wild creatures that can be left on their own. The fact is that they need us, and yes, we need them, too. We connect with them on a different level than we do with humans – no emails and status updates, but wiggling and purring and cuddling and stroking.
Twitter comes only into play if it is a budgie bird.
