By Mary Elizabeth O’Toole
West Chezzetcook recently lost a favourite son this spring—someone who worked hard, lived simply, and touched many lives. Joseph (Joe) Pettipas, who passed away at 76, didn’t ask for much, but he gave generously of his time and knowledge. Though he didn’t seek attention, his absence is deeply felt.
I didn’t know Joe well but through several years of conversations about gardening, I came to appreciate his knowledge and deep connection to the land. He was often out working when I walked past his home and was always welcoming and up for a conversation. During the gardening season, I’d stop by and join him for a slow tour, or some weeding or raking, while he shared stories about the flowers, the trees, the land. and often the progress of the Monarch caterpillars and butterflies, which gave him great joy. He generously shared cuttings, gave me tips on transplanting and care, and always asked how plants he’d given me in seasons past were doing. My garden benefited greatly from all the lessons he taught me.
To prepare this profile, I talked with some community members who knew Joe better -and longer – than I did.
Lifelong friend and neighbour, Alton met Joe when he was just four years old and Joe was eight. They were introduced by Alton’s grandmother when Joe came to deliver a chicken—a prize she’d won in a raffle from the Pettipas family. The two formed a friendship that lasted a lifetime. As boys they would go on adventures and get into mischief. Alton talked about walks along the shore, digging for clams to make a little spending money, and playing tricks on each other. He fondly remembered the animals that were always part of Joe’s world. “He grew up with barn cats and cattle, and he always had pets around – dogs, raccoons, pigs, geese, a barn owl with a bad wing, pheasants, even porcupines,” Alton said. “We figured out if we cut poles during sapping month, and put them in the porcupine pen, they ‘d chew off the bark and leave perfect fence posts.”
Another friend, Bernie knew Joe his whole life. Their families lived close, and the boys went to school together. “Joe didn’t have much formal education; he left school probably around grade six or seven,” Bernie said. “But where he was really well educated was anything to do with nature and the land. He loved all animals. One time when we were 14 or 15, we found a family of baby skunks behind the church. Joe couldn’t find their mother, so he took care of them.” Bernie remembered going to Joe’s house when his father was butchering cattle. “It was fascinating to us—and he had a horse and wagon. We’d help pack down the hay just to get a ride.” Later in life, Joe would walk up to Bernie’s to help cut slab wood with a pulp saw. “We had a good many nights like that—long talks, and lots of laughs.”
Mary, from Seaforth, met Joe in the early 1990s when he came to build fencing for her family’s horses. She told me, “He was always willing to help and often worked with my dad on maintenance work. Over time, Joe became like part of the family. He enjoyed the kids and they loved him. So did the dogs. He joined us for holidays and birthdays.” With a laugh, she added “He and I always had a bit of friendly competition about gardening. I miss him.”
In his later years, Joe became known for his cats after his property became home to a cat colony—started by cats dropped at his place by people who knew he wouldn’t turn them away. He fed them, built shelters, and earned their trust. They scattered when others came near, but followed Joe closely, sitting near him while he worked. Community members often dropped off food. Halifax Cat Rescue recently stepped in to spay and neuter all the cats and support with their care. Many people will be glad to know that friends tending to the few remaining cats.
Some might have seen Joe as poor, but he was content. Everyone agreed: Joe could always talk to anyone. He loved meeting people and making connections with nature and animals. He appreciated people in his community and remembered their stories. He valued simple pleasures and had what many wealthy people never achieve – enough. Joe leaves behind a legacy rooted in kindness, resourcefulness, and connection. He will be missed – by the people AND the animals of the community.
