Run, Sheep, Run!

Driving around the eastern edge of Vancouver yesterday on the way back to Point Roberts, it was startling to see that spring had come to Vancouver, even though it had not yet made it 20 miles north to the Sunshine Coast. In fact, on the previous morning on the Coast, we had awakened to an inch of snow on the ground, some of which was still there as we left to go south. In Vancouver, though, no sign of snow. Furthermore, the cherry trees (both light and dark pink ones) were in full bloom and, on many side streets especially, this pink haze extended as far as the eye could see. Every front yard was spiffed up with leaves all raked up from the overwinter and forsythias blooming everywhere. Little round gardens in lawns were stuffed with blooming pansies, heather, and primroses around the perimeter and daffodils standing tall and yellow in the middle. The day was still pretty cold, but the sky was blue and the sun was all out as we headed down to the Excited States.

The border crossing was nothing today, happily. The border agent was a guy who knows us, there was no one in line before us or after us, and he was happy to discuss with Ed what was the future of the lumber that was strapped to the top of our car (remodeling). ‘Take it slow,’ he smiled. ‘No need to rush with building.’ And off we went to the post office and the International Market.

At home, though, our daffodils weren’t blooming, although our forsythia was. Indeed, it didn’t look much different from when we had left two weeks ago. However, we live in the middle of tall, thick trees, so we get less benefit from the sun. Picked up the newspaper (comes to you on the first of each month or the day before) to find that border issues were back in the news. Apparently, the Voters’ Association had sponsored a meeting while we were away and the border Jefe from Peace Arch (the main U.S.-Canada border crossing here) had offered himself up to answer questions. Alas, it appeared from a very carefully phrased news account, he didn’t like the questions. Complaints, complaints, complaints. So, he gave the complainers (AKA U.S. citizens who happen to be residents of Point Roberts, Washington) the straight skinny on their condition. “You,” he said, “Are sheep; and we are the sheep dog who must keep you safe from the wolves that are trying to harm you.”

Well, thanks for sharing. We are sheep. The sentence has real resonance. Dumb, stupid sheep; how dare we complain to the sheep dog? Especially the sheep dog who, if we get feisty or refuse to obey orders, will be happy to corral and pen us and, if necessary, nip at our ankles to keep us in line. If he turns out to be a rogue sheep dog, I guess he could do us even greater harm. One of those bad apple sheep dogs. And the wolves who are after us in Point Roberts? I’d like to know who they are. When the terrorists want to take over Pt. Roberts, you will know that they have lost whatever wits they might once have had.

To accompany this infuriating report, the paper gave us a long letter from a reader, explaining how he had recently had his Nexus pass (the fast lane card) taken away from him. He was coming through the border, he showed them the card, they looked at their computer, and the computer said, ‘Take this Nexus card away.’ When the man asked why it was being done, the border guard said that the computer did not give any reason. And he, of course, was just following the orders of the computer, which came from...who knows where, when, or whom. The letter writer reported that he had requested assistance from the sheep dog Jefe we met above, but that he was reminded there is no appeal (“This is a trusted traveler program, sir”—and, I guess, for some reason they’ve decided not to trust him), but there is an ombudsman located in Vermont. Write a letter to him, El Jefe advised, after himself determining that the computer showed no explanation for the order to pull the card. My guess is that my fellow sheep might as well be writing to the Dead Letter Office. At least that’s the report I’m hearing about the fabulous ombudsman in Vermont.

So, it’s spring in Vancouver, but it’s still cold and dark in Point Roberts. Fortunately, we sheep have warm coats. We may also have long memories.