Garden Humor, was Compost
Thanks for your comments, Gene, about the "outhouse" humor. Perhaps I
can explain myself by saying that I have two corgis, Cardigan corgis to be
exact. Whether my sense of humor or the Cardigans came first can be
debated, but each has definitely enhanced the other. The Cardigan Cousins as
I call them, have actually assumed ownership of the garden, which is
evident by their loud protestations against predators such as squirrels and
meter readers, but they seem very pleased when I come outside to work, and
absolutely adore my garden helper who treats them just like his other
friends.
The Cardigan Cousins do their best to be helpful with garden chores,
digging planting-size holes in shady places so I can put in more plants.
They also do light pruning of low-hanging branches, and really enjoy
shredding up dead branches to make mulch. I have considered attempting to
teach them to identify and dig campanula rapunculoides, which is an endemic
pest in the garden. I figure if pigs can find truffles, the corgis, who are
at least as smart as pigs (and much more satisfying to pet), can find the
rapunculoides. So far, they have shown little interest in the white
radish-like roots (I don't think I'd like to eat them either), although they
love carrots. Maybe a little gene-splicing would be in order here....
For many years now, they have been engaged in a long-term research
project designed to demonstrate the benefits (or disadvantages) of random
applications of both liquid and solid fertilizers. In this important
project, they have chosen to partner with Benji, a small furry dog who is
almost blind but whose nose works just fine. He loyally follows the corgis's
lead in this project tho he obviously hasn't a clue as to the real reason
behind their actions. But I will say that all three have been very committed
to working on this project, day or night, rain or shine. I couldn't ask for
more dedication.
Upon request, the Cardigans and Benji will provide special entertainment
for myself and my guests. They chase one another around the garden staging
mock fights, grabbing one another by the tail and pulling backwards, sitting
up on their haunches to look around, offering a warm head to be petted, and
occasionally singing when a fire or police vehicle goes by. So what more
could I ask of these loyal friends? Very little, I think, very little.
Barbara Weitemier, WallaWalla WA where dogs are dogs and gardeners are
gardeners, but sometimes the distinction is blurred.....
