I don’t think I’m particularly obsessed with things being perfectly trimmed and even in my garden…
I always tell people that a little bit of wildness breathes life into a greenspace. This philosophy also happens to make it easier to justify the times when I don’t exactly get everything done to perfection in the garden. There isn’t time to do everything and to do it well, so a laissez-faire policy seems to work as well as any to justify what I do (or don’t do).
So I have to wonder if I have the discipline and patience to accomplish a topiary. Can I do all that training and trimming and spritzing and pinning? Do I even have the time?
I may have to give it a try. I have fallen in love with green dogs–topiary dogs.
Take a look at this pooch from the Philadelphia Flower Show, accomplished with multiple varieties of ivies. Some are solid and some are variegated. See the little pine needle sprigs for his whiskers?
There was a whole topiary dog park at the flower show, complete with the obligatory fire hydrant. Some were sniffing and some were playing. I thought this fellow lolling on his back for a tummy rub was clever.
Since I adore dogs, I think a nice green dog would be a wonderful addition to my garden. And I have extraordinary patience with my real dogs. Perhaps that would transfer to a topiary dog.
Wait. What’s this?
Nice try, Sarah, but topiary dogs are green, not brown.
Um. Okay, you’re partly green now. But you’re still not a topiary dog.
Robin
Wonder where I’ve been?
Well, between that wretched cold, business travel and generally trying to keep my head above water, I have been the victim of extortion.
See this sweet little dog? She may look innocent. She’s not. She’s my extortionist.
The Extortionist, Sarah
Here’s how she operates:
She scratches at the door to go outside. I figure, “Sarah needs to go potty.”
I take her outside–in the freezing cold. She sniffs. She observes the beautiful sky. She wanders around and scratches at the ground.
Nothing. Nada.
We go back inside. A short while later she scratches at the door.
“You didn’t do anything last time.” More scratching. “You’re gonna poop on my floor if I don’t take you outside, aren’t you?”
Innocent look. (See above photo.)
More scratching at door.
We go outside. She sniffs some more. Looks around. Wanders around.
Repeat this scene about 20 times during an eight-hour period, each time with Little Miss Innocent threatening to poop on my hardwood floors.
See what I have to put up with around here? It’s a wonder I get anything done in the wintertime.
Robin
I very much love sending my imposing 10 pound Papillons to chase the deer away from our yard and garden.
Who knew that a little ball of fur could be so scary? Remember seeing Sarah terrify the deer and sending them scurrying?
Well, I am sad to report that the deer just might be catching on that my Papillons have their limits. We had a bit of a Mexican standoff this morning. Since the grass was wet, Sophie and Sarah were loathe to wade in to eat the deer.
The deer, sensing the hesitation, took advantage of the situation and stared back at the Papillons.
More staring ensued…
Until Sarah worked up her courage to wade into the high, wet grass.
The deer, finally leaped out of sight.
No more deer.
Good job, babies.
Robin
