When we set out to save this Memorial Garden from returning to the earth, we had no idea where the journey would lead.
It was a mission of rescue, re-creation, and re-envisioning.
Today – it is this.
But a garden is a living, breathing thing.
It changes over time; plants grow and morph; and once-happy companions need to find new homes. Like our Dahlias – recently relocated –
because their once-full-sun setting…
has been cloaked in shade.
Or this graceful rose, wild and tangled in its old spot…
now supported and delighted in its new home.
Rescue is only the beginning for our dogs, as well.
The work only starts with pulling a dog from a shelter, taking in a stray, or assuming responsibility for a surrender.
Some of our dogs come to us already blooming; they just need to be replanted (Seru!).
Others require training and TLC to bring out their best selves (Jackson!).
While we work through that process, transformations take place. They grow, become more confident, and come into their own (Chief!)
Sadly, sometimes, these are the dogs that wait. For all of their readiness, people have a hard time letting go of the dog’s past and embracing its future (Nico…adopted today…we told you it would happen, boy!).
When a plant outgrows its space, it sends gentle signals at first.
Eventually, it will struggle – deprived of the very things that made it grow so strong and well.
I hope these special pups will not lose hope or faith as they wait for that special someone who recognizes that all they need is a new start and new place to call ‘home’ (we’re working on it, Riley!).
Our work for this garden is a gift.
So too is our volunteers’ work to grow the potential of these pups into the great dogs they can and have become (Nick and Nora!).
Rescue is only the start.
‘Home’ is the ending.