After seven years living in Banff, Shonna and I bought our modest townhouse condo in Canmore in 2001. We live in an end unit, which means only one neighbour. Anybody who has had the experience knows that whoever shares your walls has a direct impact on how you feel about your home. Considerate neighbours are worth their weight in gold, and in an ideal world, you get what you give.
This brings me to Chris and Cindy, who rented the place next to us for the past eight years — the best neighbours we’ve ever had.
We didn’t socialize in each other’s homes, but we’d hang out in our shared driveway or backyard, drinking coffee and becoming friends. Chris was home all day like me, and in a bizarre twist of fate, he is also a digital cartoonist and animator, though not full-time. It was great to have somebody next door who spoke the same language.
About five years ago, in the middle of the day, I was walking back from taking the garbage to the dumpster and saw Chris sitting on his front step. Standing on the strip of grass beside his sidewalk was a large puppy.
As she saw me approach, she politely sat down, and that’s when I fell in love with Timber.
Cindy volunteered with the local SPCA shelter here. And though they had fostered another dog that eventually went to live with her parents in Calgary, they hadn’t found the right one for them until they met Timber.
She is what folks around here call a Morley mutt, named for the First Nations reserve just outside the mountains. They’re often strays or abandoned from the city, but many I’ve met have become the most friendly dogs around. Whether true or not, it’s a well-known joke around here that Canmore has more dogs than kids, and I love that about this town.
Chris and Cindy are doting dog parents, and Timber is their spoiled child. With two or three-hour walks each day and the best health and food she could ask for, that dog won the lottery. And so did they. She’s not a needy dog, doesn’t require your attention, and frankly, doesn’t tolerate it from many people. She’s not aggressive, just disinterested.
The best line I ever heard about her was from Cindy. “Timber is three cats in a dog’s body.”
Much to my welcome surprise, however, Timber likes Shonna and me, and the feeling is mutual. For Timber, that means she’ll tolerate the hugs, kisses and mauling for five minutes instead of no minutes. When she’d had enough, she’d go inside, leaving Chris and I out on the step with our coffee.
One of my favourite things was getting a text from Chris every day or two, with a photo of Timber sitting on the grass in front of our door, not hers, with the caption, “Dog on the lawn.”
I’d drop whatever I was doing, scurry down the two flights of stairs from my office, and open the door to a wagging tail, exclaiming, “Hi Baby!” or something like that, and then I’d maul and hug her and tell her she was pretty.
The running joke was only then would I offer a less than enthusiastic, “Oh, yeah…hi Chris.”
It was often the highlight of my day.
I think I only heard her bark three times in the years she lived next door. Two were playful; one was not.
Chris and I stood outside one night talking about a large black bear frequenting the neighbourhood. Timber suddenly started growling and let out a large bark at the fence next to our property. Knowing his dog, Chris guessed the bear was in the yard on the other side of the fence. We retreated into our homes.
Shonna and I often said if we ever heard Timber barking next door, we’d run over to check what was wrong. Thankfully, neither Chris nor Cindy ever fell down the well. (That’s a Lassie reference. Ask your grandparents.)
I have taken many pictures of Timber over the years and always planned to get to a painting. But as art is what I do for a living, I rarely have time for personal projects anymore. And with best-laid plans, I never got to it.
Life in this valley is ridiculously expensive, and when you’re paying a premium for rent, even the beauty of the Canadian Rockies can lose its lustre. Add to that a property management company that seemed to find any reason to target Chris and Cindy for the slightest infraction while letting others around here get away with everything; the day came when they’d had enough. Though we didn’t want to see them go, we couldn’t blame them.
Cindy and Chris bought a home in Calgary in the spring. Before they left, they hired me to paint a portrait of Timber in my style.
While they already liked my work and wanted to give me free rein, I asked for guidance, as with all my commission clients. Before long, I got the personal requests I like. Timber is always wearing a bandana; though she has many, they have a favourite. It has a faded hand-lettered label, and Chris sent me more reference pictures. Canmore dog tags are little hearts, whereas Calgary’s are rectangles. We opted not to put any writing on it, as it would be an unnecessary distraction.
Chris also wrote a long, sarcastic, entertaining email with hilarious details, telling me how many whiskers Timber has on each side of her muzzle, the exact Pantone colours I needed to match on different parts of her face, and other ridiculous technical specifics.
At some point in our many exchanges, I sent the following sketch with something like, “Done. Pay me.”
He printed and framed it and sent a photo of it hanging on their wall.
Because they knew I would undercut myself, they sent the first installment before I could uncomfortably ask for one. Their timeline was “sometime in the next five years.”
I wasn’t about to take advantage of their generosity, so I prioritized it as much as possible. I always want to give every client my best effort, but because I know this dog so well, I obsessed over this painting, probably for much longer than I needed to.
I sent the finished image, and they were thrilled, which made me doubly happy. Because they already had a shadowbox framed 18X24 canvas of my Wolf painting, they wanted Timber’s to match.
When it arrived, however, there was a slight blemish near the bottom of the canvas, a flaw that wasn’t on the image file. It was minor, but once you see that kind of thing, you never unsee it. While damage is rare, my printers have always been great with replacing problem prints. Still, the turnaround time meant I couldn’t deliver until the week before Christmas, as Shonna and I wouldn’t be able to get into Calgary together. We haven’t seen them since they moved.
I foolishly tried to repair the canvas with a gold paint pen, which probably worsened it. Without the materials or experience I’d need to fix it, I took it to my friend Derek Turcotte at Electric Grizzly Tattoo and asked if he could help. He’s an incredible airbrush artist.
Derek said he was willing to try. I assured him he couldn’t make it worse as I would have to replace it anyway.
I brought it to Derek’s house a couple of days later, and he matched the colour, finely sprayed the small area a few times, and saved the canvas. You can’t tell there was ever a problem, and you can still see my underlying brush strokes. I held the canvas while he painted with the airbrush, so we staged the above photo after the fact, knowing I’d want to write about it.
If you’re reading this, Derek, thanks again for your help, buddy. You’re awesome.
Of course, the best part of any commission is delivering it to the client, especially when it’s this personal. Shonna and I drove to Chris and Cindy’s place in Calgary last Saturday. Chris correctly advised that I leave the canvas in the car until after we saw Timber so it wouldn’t get damaged. We pulled up, and once out of the car, Chris let Timber loose on the front lawn. She was excited to see us and ran out for attention we were eager to give.
She was wearing the same bandanna.
They loved the painting, and we spent a great afternoon catching up and visiting. They also have Cindy’s parents’ dog now and she’s a real sweetheart. The two dogs get along great, and it’s nice that each has a buddy.
To her credit, Timber was very patient and accepted a lot more attention from us than she’d usually tolerate. Those old neighbours. So needy.
While we have a new neighbour who is considerate and quiet, it’s not the same without Chris, Cindy and Timber next door. We miss all three of them.
But people make mistakes. Theirs was telling us where they live now.
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For more information about my custom pet portraits, please visit the Commissions page. Thanks!
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