Beneficial art

Barbara Christofferson stepped off of a Greyhound bus 25 years ago and decided that Coeur d’Alene felt like home. She never finished the last leg of her one-way ticket from Chicago to Seattle. That turned out to be a fortuitous decision for many of this region’s unwanted and neglected pets.

Barbara estimates that she’s rescued more than 20 lost and wayward animals over the years in North Idaho. One dog was tied to a tree and abandoned for hours near a hiking trail. Another was wandering along Interstate 90, so was invited into Barbara’s car, where it promptly delivered a litter of pups.

Only one event turned out unfavorably, when the dog she scooped from the side of the highway gave a menacing snarl from the passenger’s seat. It was a sticky situation for Barbara, who then had to explain to police why her engine was running, while a dog she did not know was guarding the front seat.

But most of the memories are fond, in fact some of her happiest moments. Those are some of the feelings that Barbara taps into while creating homemade greeting cards. Each card is unique and sports a precious, furry face.

Last March she felt moved to begin a fundraising project with her cards. She wanted to do more for the lost animal souls. Barbara had volunteered for an animal shelter in Chicago but couldn’t bring herself to do that again.

“It’s hard for me,” she said. “I adore the people who can go in there. They’re just magical people for what they do.”

Her cards have already raised more than $1,700 for Kootenai Humane Society. A basic faith in the goodness of others keeps the project profitable. Barbara’s cards can be found in several Coeur d’Alene locations, with no price tag attached. Instead, she leaves a jar requesting a donation for the animals.

The success of her method was evident during summertime’s downtown street fair. One woman took five cards and left one dollar. Another came by, took one card and left $50.

“There’s always a balance,” Barbara said.

And she understands the value of balance, since Barbara has struggled with bipolar disorder for years. Her cards run the gamut of emotions. Some cards are sentimental and bring a tear, while others spark a smile.

“For the most part, all are emotions that I have felt,” she said.

On one card, a no-nonsense cat says, “I don’t rent space to anyone in my head.” A gentle terrier is accompanied by a quote from Elizabeth Barrett Browning: “His ears were often the first thing to catch my tears.” Some cards are in French because things always sound better in French, Barbara said.

Animals provided solace in Barbara’s darkest moments.

“They really soften the blow on reality,” she said.

Animals also brought Barbara to Wayne, her husband of 23 years. She knew his sister in Chicago and learned that he traveled a lot. She offered to watch his cats and dogs. It was a good fit.

Barbara hopes that the messages in her cards will help people communicate better with their loved ones. Even the most brutal truths are easier to hear when announced by a cute, fuzzy face.

“It’s sometimes hard to tell family and friends things,” she said. “Animals help soften the blow there as well.”

Each pet’s face must complement the sentiment. The colors and embellishments have to match, too. Reaction to the cards has been positive.

“More than anything it makes people talk about their animals, which is cool,” she said.

Thea Drake, co-owner of Bella Rose cafe, and owner of two dogs, was one of the first to offer display space for the greeting cards.

“People love them,” she said. “They’re really cute. Who doesn’t love cats or dogs?”

After fostering and finding homes for many of her creatures, Barbara is down to five pets now at her Beauty Bay home. Four formerly-stray cats mingle well with her golden retriever. Her yard is the hangout for other neighborhood pets, and she insists that they all sport identification tags.

Barbara also crafts Scripture-based cards to raise funds for her church, which are displayed at St. Thomas’ rectory in Coeur d’Alene. Some people ask why she doesn’t sell her cards outright, but Barbara likes the simplicity of her system. Her reward is in the handiwork itself; it’s priceless therapy.

“This just feels right,” she said. “The cards are all a piece of me.”