So I was going to write this week about the awesome composting class I attended on Saturday, through the Calgary Horticultural Society.
I’ve also been thinking about a post on keeping houseplants happy through the winter, especially so I could show off Chris’ blooming Lipstick Vine (Aeschynanthus).
There was the bird watching report.
The cold frame update.
More books to spotlight.
But we got a puppy on Monday, and all bets are off.
I wasn’t necessarily against getting a dog, but I had a very clear idea of the work involved, having kept pet dogs as a child, and blithely leaving most of the work to my patient, patient mother. Which would now be coming back to haunt me.
I have, however, already taken a shining to our little as-yet-unnamed fur ball. He is incredibly smart and is training very quickly. But I can’t help cringing every time he does his business, because underneath his potty is my garden: the lawn (meh), the vegetable plots (please don’t), and the finally-happy rose patch (grrr!). I’m being patient, and working towards a designated area, but what if he turns out to be a digger? What if my newly planted trees look to him more like sticks to chew?
I’ve been dealing with kitty consequences for years, but this is entirely different. Puppies are so much… busier. Louder.
It’s a whole new world for the family and the garden. (And the cat. But he’ll survive.)