unexpected visitor – Karen's New York Love Affair

Bandit: more about the dog from Missezula Lake

A while back I told you the story of the New Year’s Eve visitor who resembled a wolf, and scared my friend Dorrie as she was sitting on the porch one evening. I recently went through some boxes and found a picture of the dog, and a thank-you card from his owners.

The dog’s name is Bandit. His people are named Chuck and Pat Krastel, and they all live in the community at the east end of Missezula Lake. Bandit is a favourite friend in the community, welcome at many homes. When he was missing, lots of his friends called Chuck and Pat to ask if they’d found him yet. He also has some kitty friends, Dancer (shown here), and Chico. It’s amazing how the feline and canine species can get along!

Missezula Lake is about a mile south of Monkey Valley. Shrimpton Creek flows down into the lake, and I’ve followed the creek down to the lake a few times with friends. The way is tangled with fallen trees in places, but it’s a fun outing to hike down to the lake for a skinny dip!

There’s a campground at the west end of the lake, and a few fishing cabins along the north shore, and then the Missezula Lake community over at the east end. It’s a popular community, fully serviced, with year-round residences and cottages.

Bandit doesn’t really look like a wolf, but remember it was dark when we first saw him. He was an emissary of love, who still reveals to me that part of my heart that is longing for the universe to bring me someone to love. Someone black and white and furry!

Holy cow, a visiting vole!

The other night I was wakened from a peaceful sleep by a crinkling sound. It’s not the first time this has ever happened, but it’s been a while. I replayed the sound in my head, and figured it wasn’t a human intruder—the sound was too small. It could be a pack rat, I thought, remembering that there is an unwanted pack rat living under the house at the moment. It might have come in the cat door…

But the sound seemed even smaller than that. Maybe it’s a little mouse that found its way in through a tiny hole, I thought. Donald was on the bed beside me, also listening. But he didn’t seem inclined to get up and go investigate. I decided I didn’t want to either, and hoped that maybe Donald would go catch it later. Then I promptly fell back asleep.

The next morning I went to investigate the little package of poisoned bait that I keep behind a bin in the loft. That seemed to be where the sound was coming from. There were a few loose kibbles around the package. Sweeping the floor downstairs I found some more clues: a kibble on the living room floor, and a few tiny droppings near the bait behind the stereo. Hmm…

Then I heard Donald playing in the bathroom. That can only mean one thing. He has found a playmate. Sometimes he finds them outside and brings them into the bathroom to play with. Other times, as in this case (I do believe) he found one inside the house. The downstairs bathroom is black, because all the bathrooms and showers in the house are painted the colours of the medicine wheel: red shower, yellow shower, black bathroom, white bathroom. Donald likes the black bathroom as the place to play with his prey. And there he was, grabbing something in his mouth and flopping it around and letting it drop. He did that a few times, but the poor creature seemed dead, so I left him to it.

When I went back later to investigage, I found the corpse of a tiny little vole in the bathroom. Thinking I was being somewhat morbid, I brought Mammals of British Columbia into the bathroom and made an identification—definitely a vole, with its tiny size and short tail, and the shape of its nose. But what kind of vole? I went to get my tape measure, and measured the tiny creature. It was about 11.5 cm long, including a tail about 2.5 cm long. It looked like a lot of the voles in the book, brown with lighter underside, but the only vole whose size can be under 12 cm in length is the Western Heather Vole. I learned it feeds on green vegetation, grasses, lichens, berries, seeds, and fungi. Lots of those things around here. And it likes the inner bark of various shrubs from the heather family.

That led, of course, to a consultation with Plants of Southern Interior British Columbia. Is there really heather around here? I learned that there are two kinds, white mountain-heather and pink mountain-heather. They are tiny shrubs, only 30 cm and 10-40 cm tall, respectively. They have blue-bell shaped flowers, and the pink ones do look familiar to me. But I am not certain if I’ve seen them. Clark, quoted in the guide, wrote “These cheerful bells ring an invitation to high places above the timber line, to those serene and lofty slopes where peace and quiet enter our souls.”

And so the cycle is complete, from crinkling in the night to peace and quiet entering our souls. I took the dear little vole and put her body under a young fir tree that grows near the house, and wished that her spirit may be at peace.

If you are interested in reading about other visitors to Monkey Valley, see these posts:

Is that a wolf?

Cowboys, dogs, and dirtbikers: visitors to Monkey Valley

You might be noticing that all of these invaders of my privacy are men. Men who break the law and ignore the postings I have put up every 20 to 50 meters around the perimeter of the property. But one time there was a non-human male visitor, and he was so sweet!

I had some friends up for New Year’s Eve a few winters ago. One night after dinner my friend Dorrie was sitting on the porch, legs dangling into space, looking out at the night. I was inside supervising Keith and Marvin while they did the dishes. Suddenly I heard a faint warbled “Help!” I heard it again: “Help!”

I ran to the door and opened it a crack, and a very large creature was standing there looking at me. “Are you a wolf?” I asked. It was greyish, and big, but the tail was wagging a little. The soul of the animal did not feel harmful, but at the same time I didn’t know this creature, it might be a wolf, and Dorrie was scared!

I chased the animal off the porch, and Dorrie came inside. We all talked about what had happened, and looked outside, but the animal was gone. Not for long though. The next day he was back. He turned out to be a very large friendly dog.

I fed him some cat food and vegetarian scraps, which he ate. He had a very thick coat, and seemed okay with staying outside. Over the next few days I became very fond of this sweet fellow. I wondered if the universe was sending me a present for the new year, a new family member. Although I hadn’t had any intention of getting a dog, I was turning over the possibility of keeping him.

However, I also thought I’d better try to find the owner. I called both vets in Merritt, and they suggested I also contact the Humane Society in Princeton. I did, and soon I got a phone call from the dog’s human family, very happy to find their dog was still alive.

It turned out that he lived in the community at the east end of Missezula Lake. On New Year’s Eve there were a lot of fireworks, and he got scared and ran away. Somehow he found his way to my land, and came to the house. He obviously trusted people, and I learned that he was friends with all the people in his community.

Perhaps this is the lesson this beautiful soul brought into my life. That people can be trusted, and will help when we are lost and alone in the cold.