(dedicated to the memory of Ed Janzen, founder of Canadian Stories, who like me, loved cars)
Some years ago now, a letter to the motoring magazine Autocar carried a reader’s query about why it was that a car always seemed to “drive better” after a car wash. The editor responded with a query of his own: “Don’t you,” he asked, “feel better after you’ve had a shower and washed your hair?” For those of us who know our cars and understand their behaviour, this was a perfectly reasonable answer.
We called our new 2014 Subaru Forester “Subie Roo” after two characters, stuffed toys really, who appeared in A.A. Milne’s Winnie-the-Pooh stories, written for his son Christopher Robin, one of whose characters was “Kanga,” the mother, and the other her baby, “Roo,” who normally lived in her pocket, as all joeys do, but who often distinguished himself by getting into all kinds of mischief, as he did when he fell into an inkwell, and emerged covered in ink. Subie also shares her name with the adopted daughter of the American essayist Joan Didion, who named her ‘Quintana Roo,’ after a territory of Mexico, curiously enough.
Our Subie Roo was never mischievous, however. On the contrary, she served us faithfully and reliably, never complaining of January cold or August heat, potholed road surfaces, traffic conditions, or unnecessary speed restrictions that she always obeyed. How many racehorses are so compliant? She endured the carelessness of children who dinged her paintwork while opening their car doors in crowded parking lots. She was a model of stoical patience even when grandchildren vomited in their car seats or littered her floor or cargo area with forgotten drawings or candy wrappers. We kept her warm and comfortable in her own garage for all of the eleven years we shared with her, and she hummed along happily with us for more than a quarter of a million kilometers. But as the Good Book says, all flesh is dust, so all steel is rust.
We had, eventually, to bid her a sorrowful farewell two months ago, as the time had come for a restful change for her from faithful service to us. Sadly, we do not know which paddock she now grazes in…
Like the rest of us, Subie needed to see the doctor from time to time. I would wait for the nurse at the clinic’s counter to bring me the bill for her diagnosis and treatment, as cars do not qualify for medicare, passing the time happily reading in the armchairs provided for patients’ families, or chatting with them about the care their vehicles were receiving. “Yes, he had a battery implant last year; it seems to have done the trick” or “We think they have now changed her medication: the antifreeze did not agree with her.” It was always an education to visit the clinic.
Subie Roo’s genes show she came from good stock. Her ancestral records make it clear that nearly all of the Subarus sold ten years ago are still on the road. Her controls worked perfectly, one of her rear eyes only needed a new lens once; she never broke down, and her good manners could be seen when she forbore to criticize a callous passenger’s comment on a forlorn Ford at the side of the road, “A Ford! Know what it stands for? Found On Road Dead! Ha-haha!” Subie never made disparaging comments about other vehicles, recognizing each one’s own quirks and virtues, yet modest and humble about her own.
