Finally, I kicked myself out the door and got started with the door-to-door canvass I had pledged to do once again this year for the Canadian Cancer Society. It took long enough. I kept telling myself as the days in April clicked by, there's no hurry, plenty of time yet, just relax about it, you've got other things you have to tend to, and lo and behold the end of the month loomed and I'd yet to convince myself it was time to get at it.

Well, I've done at least that; got at it, for one evening's canvass, and more to go if I'm to do a decent job of what I've committed to. The thought of actually propelling myself out the door with canvass kit in hand is always worse than the actual doing of it. A little bit of psychological bullying does it, and the concern that I wouldn't be fulfilling an obligation that I had responded to. In any event, off I went, not early but not at all that late, either, after dinner.

I had a half-hour of daylight left, so I knew the much longer balance of the canvass would be during dark hours. But was intrigued to see as dark descended, that many people of the neighbourhood, ambling along the street in pairs, singly, with and without companion pets were out for a post-prandial stroll. The streets always seem deserted during the day, but in the evening, the call of a relaxing fresh-air walkabout seems to attract people. Sedentary in their jobs most of the day at least that offers a bit of exercise.

By the time I reached the top of the street beyond the entrance to the ravine, I was speaking to a householder holding a bichon frise to answer the door. A fairly new resident, I had no idea a dog lived at that address; the ravine directly behind him, I suppose it never occurred to the fellow to walk his frisky little dog in the ravine. He did tell me something interesting, however; that he regularly sees a red fox on a route within the ravine, taking a short-cut through his backyard.

Others have also informed us they've seen foxes close to their homes adjacent the ravine; we live on the side opposite the ravine, and though we used to see foxes often in our ravine rambles a decade and more ago, we no longer do; good to know they're still around. They've simply become more secretive as the urban build-up has closed them in; wary of the prevalence of large dogs who may pose a challenge to them.

On my return trip on the opposite side of the street in the portion I had decided to canvass, the young parents of three very young boys were not at home. But the parents of the mother of the children were there. And this was the very first time I can recall in my experience in neighbourhood canvassing that someone was eager to make a charitable donation in someone else's home. That's the thing about the neighbourhood canvass; it's specific to a street, to the very home where the canvasser knocks and when others are about in lieu of the homeowner no one sees the need to respond affirmatively.

We've rarely seen the mother of those children. She has a full-time job that keeps her travelling. We're more accustomed to seeing the children's father about. At one time they had employed a full-time nanny from the Philippines, but we haven't seen her in the past year and hope she managed to obtain the immigrant status she had often discussed with us. Whenever I knock at that door with a canvass kit I know I'll be turned away. Not this time. The grandmother was openly gregarious as was the grandfather, welcoming, and anxious to donate.

Since we were age peers, there was much to chat about because that's what the grandmother wanted to do; mostly about her pride in her busy daughter who despite, the demands of her job, was a wonderful mother. And she spoke as well of her love of her grandchildren. I should return, the grandmother said enthusiastically, for her daughter would want to make a donation of her own. Someone close to them is fighting for their life against the cancer that is consuming his body.

Far be it for me to dash a sweet woman's cherished beliefs.