It's a cats' world

Stevestonites love their dogs. On any given day (but especially on warm sunny days) you can see our best friends sauntering beside their owners on the riverfront promenade, sniffing and snuffling every dusty bush on the dyke, lapping up water in metal bowls in front of village stores, or straining their pole-wrapped leashes while waiting for their absent masters.

Yep. No doubt about it. Dogs reign on the well traveled routes in our neighborhood.

But... 

When you take the quieter corners and cul de sacs, you will soon discern that cats rule the backwaters. In the soothing whispers of tree leaves, seductive dances of undulating grasses, and crisp scents of well tended private gardens you find them - sometimes well hidden but at other times, boldly out in the open, as they survey their domain with their characteristic self-assured pomposity.

Their sightings seem to spark a sense of wonder, even privilege, on the part of the observer. Indeed, the cats themselves appear to remind us that such moments are not to be taken lightly - with their cool stares, their upturned Roman nose, and their disappearance just as you whip out your camera phone.

It's a doggie dog world in Steveston

It’s not Paris but dogs are obviously very near and dear to the Stevestonite heart.

Just take a walkabout on a sunny day and your legs might get tangled up in a leash or two.



A short jaunt past the waterfront restaurants and you risk kicking stainless steel water dishes and even a doggie biscuit.

And guess what’s the most popular ice breaker when two dog walkers come head to head on the street?



I don’t know how many canines call Steveston home and the ratio of owners to dogs, but a friend hires herself out as a pet boarder and care-giver. Let’s just say that if she were to strike the word “no” from her vocabulary, she would spend her days – and evenings – jogging beside, tripping over, and having her shoulders pulled out of their sockets by a convoy of canines. Or even by one solitary pooch. There is no shortage of clients, it seems.

For those of you who are ailurophiles, take heart. Steveston is not an exclusive bark community. Now and then, you can see a furry face with whiskers atwitchin' in a window.



Or see a bushy striped tail brushing past someone’s flowerbed. But cats prefer to preserve their dignity by keeping a low profile.

I often bemoan the fact that mine refuses to walk beside me on a leash, peek out of a pet tote, ponder the road ahead from a bicycle basket, or just press itself next to my ankles while I read a book in an outdoor café.

Instead, he prefers his own company. In fact, his favourite indoor activity is to perch himself atop his favourite stool and spy on Mr. Crow or Mr. Squirrel on our front lawn - while his whiskers tremble and his tail swishes back and forth.