Snail mail

My first pen pal was my grandma’s dog, Amigo. He wrote me stories on little scraps of birchbark about his life in the backyard: Digging holes, chasing squirrels, and accompanying my grandma on her walks. He asked me about what I was learning in school, what life was like in the big city, whether or not I was excited to be a big sister. When Amigo died, the correspondence responsibility was transferred to her new dog, Tangles. I was older then, and insisted upon having human pen pals. I loved the idea that my words could be taken anywhere in the world. I was hooked on a hobby that I practice to this day. Since moving to Montreal for university three years ago, I correspond mostly with a close friend from home, Seth Bartusek, and my 10-year-old sister, Hannah Jane. I spoke with both of them about how exchanging snail mail has changed the way they communicate.