In the Garden

The flowers in our garden are beginning to bloom and are, of course, a magnet for Sam. My neighbor is fortunate to have inherited a large and established perennial garden lovingly planted by a previous owner, now tended and nurtured by her. We have been blessed with a few poppies creeping over and under the little picket fence between our yards. The first to bloom on our side was of intense interest.





Sam is almost to the point were he can be trusted around plants. Not quite, though. I have a little fence by our vegetable garden to keep Tubbs, and Sam, out. That poppy is located right by the strawberry patch, so I opened the gate to let Sam in and take a look. First thing he did was try to remove my tomato cages. He then proceed to trample the pumpkin plant and try and pick the poppy. Our entire visit to the side garden was puncuated by constant reminding, cajoling and wincing as I begged him not to destroy what little bit seems to be thriving.

Despite my anxiety, Sam is having fun with the yard this year. He has a designated bunch of daylillys we call "Sam's Jungle" that he is free to sit in, jump on, dig under and pretty much whatever he feels like. It seems to get most of his destruction needs taken care of. However, there have been a few casualties. A freshly planted hosta I got at the plant swap was yanked up, and some pots that he helped me plant, he dug up and scattered all over the walk. Yeah, petunias don't really like cement. It seems he does better as long as he doesn't witness the actual planting part. He just wants to undo, or redo , or...who knows what he's trying to do, but it sure isn't good for the flowers. I feel bad because I would love to include him. Maybe I just shouldn't care. It would be easier for everyone if I could just laugh it off and shrug. But winter in Vermont is so long and cold, I love tending to the plants and making my yard look pretty...if I can. Which for two years I really couldn't.




I can't complain too much because this year, Sam really is SO much better. Last year he would wack everything he could with sticks and jump on anything that had the courage to pop out of the ground. Next year he'll be even better. Of course, then I'll have Joe to contend with.