Social-distancing compliant? Heck ya!

We think we’re pretty good at social distancing. According to a recent Insights West survey of B.C. residents, 89 per cent of us rate ourselves as an 8, 9 or 10 out of 10 when it comes to our own social distancing behaviour. None of us gave ourselves less than a 4 out of 10.

Maybe the gold stars are merited. Or maybe failing to maintain physical distance from non-household members in a time of pandemic is now so deeply shameful that we simply don’t ’fess up — right up there alongside anal leakage, picking one’s nose, and chewing one’s own toenails.

Because others don’t agree with our self-congratulatory self-ratings. Almost half of the survey’s respondents rated others in the 6 or 7 range, while 17 per cent outright failed other people’s efforts at keeping away from them.

If we are too ashamed to admit we’re not complying with current physical-distancing requirements, that reaction at least acknowledges that we should be complying.

And that is an improvement over the results of earlier polls. Thirty per cent of Canadians contacted by Research Co. in March thought it was reasonable to hold gatherings of up to 10 people during the pandemic, and 26 per cent of those polled by Ipsos in early April reported they weren’t fully following physical-distancing recommendations.

With the Insights West poll results in mind, I undertook an early morning survey of my own backyard neighbours to determine how they view their own and others’ success at physical distancing.

The young raccoons sniffing around the bottom of the trellis outside my window skedaddled when they saw me. Ma Raccoon, however, stood her ground.

“Just who do you think you are looking at my kids?” she snarled at me through the glass.

She bared her teeth and advanced menacingly. I bared my teeth, hooked my hand into a claw, and growled back, “Social distancing!”

Yeah, it was a bit like a toy poodle snarling at a pit bull from behind the safety of a fence, but there was no way I was going to let some two-foot-high bandit — no matter how vicious its reputation — threaten me through a window.

Raccoon’s social-distance rating — self: 10; others: 2.

My next unrandomly selected survey participant also became angry. “Go away,” Robin squawked. “If it’s not avian ’flu, who cares? Just stay away from me and my nest.”

“But there’s a window between us,” I pointed out.

“What’s a window? I don’t see a window. I see you, and you’re waaaay too close. You’re as bad as those murdering raccoons and all the others, always sniffing around my nest, hoping to eat my babies.” Robin’s rating — self: 10; others: 0. I then asked the neighbour’s cat, which was passing through on her way to use our yard as her litterbox. “Hishsispit pfht!” she answered, staring disdainfully at me. Robin started shrieking, “Murderer! Chick-snatcher! Cat-Napper!” Cat’s rating — self: 9; others: 2. But when Rat trundled around the corner, Cat turned and scampered.

“Eek,” I said. (I didn’t say “Eek.” You don’t need to know what I said. This is a family-oriented newspaper.) Fed on generous amounts of dog food, compost, baby birds and anything halfway edible regularly left outdoors in the neighbourhood, Rat is bigger than a football and freaks the anal leakage out of Cat, Robin and me. He could even take on Ma Raccoon.

“Murderer! Chick-snatcher! Rat-Napper!” Robin continued.

But Rat responded civilly to my questions as he explored the ground below Robin’s nest. “I’d say y’all are really good at physical distancing. Robin flies away from me. Cat runs away from me. You run away from me. And I eat everthing left behind. Thanks, y’all, for keeping me safe and well fed.” Rat’s rating — self: 3; others: 10. Just then, a neighbour’s black Lab trotted into the yard. It saw Rat. It saw me. It wagged its tail, approached, and drooled. Dog’s rating — self: 2; others: 2. “Hey, dude, social distancing and all that,” said Rat, delicately nibbling on its own toenail. “Have you had breakfast yet? ’Cause I could really nosh some dog kibble right about now.”

As questionable as our own perceptions of our physical-distancing compliance are, backyard wildlife has its own problems respecting boundaries.