Gardens For Goldens

Wordless Wednesday: Milo

Joy Spread. Joy Returned.

“Don’t you just want to take them all home?” new volunteers ask in worry. The truth is, no. My two boys fill my heart and our home. And while we truly enjoy our occasional tiny foster guests, the quiet following the mayhem is blissful. That doesn’t mean that it is easy to say ‘goodbye.’ Adoption days at the rescue are often bittersweet. But our job is to be the bridge on the dogs’ journeys to their own forever homes. If we all filled ours to the brim, there would be no time or capacity to help others.

The hardest part of being a puppy mama is handing them off to their new families. The best part is staying connected and watching them grow up without having to deal with house training accidents, disappeared shoes, or destroyed gardens.

The Giants litter of Summer ’16 returns for reunions every six months –

now all towering over their lanky mom, Molly and dad, Harley who watches from the tennis ball sideline.

Timmy and Wyatt – my February fosters – returned this summer with their sister, Cici.

Journey’s mom stays in touch regularly to share how much my little tomboy is loved.

And now, my puppy worlds have collided – with Bonnie (formerly Latte) of Irish’s Litter

attending puppy class with Yves and Andre of the Doodle litter.

This prompted each to follow the Giant’s litter example and set up a Facebook group page to stay in contact with the families of the litter mates.

Reunions are sweet –

and raucous – with joyful greetings quickly turning into jousting displays of sibling love.

Some things never change.

Siblings seem to pick up right where they left off.

It is a joy to play a small role in a dog’s journey home. Even more so when we receive updates like this one from the couple who adopted Gage, written about here:

“Happy Thanksgiving HBGRR! Forever grateful for your love and kindness to your Fool’s Gold pups! Gage was rescued just before Christmas last year after he and Sadie were pulled by a good Sam from their life chained together. He just spent a week on the central coast watching sunsets (or birds) running the hills off leash and cuddling with his brother Toby! We adore this guy!”

Joy spread. Joy returned.

With Gratitude

“For each new morning with its light,

For rest and shelter of the night,

For health and food, for love and friends,

For everything Thy goodness sends.

For flowers that bloom about our feet;

For tender grass, so fresh, so sweet;

For song of bird,

and hum of bee;

For all things fair we hear or see,

Father in heaven, we thank Thee!” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

For the community I have found, for the generosity that makes our work possible, and for the many pups who have touched my heart this year – I give thanks. I wish you all a Happy Thanksgiving.

Puppy Love On Loan

Sometimes the universe has a twisted sense of timing. We received a request for urgent help a couple of weeks ago. While a Golden lover was picking up her new puppy half the country away, she got word that her senior heart dog, Sully, was failing – and fast. She rushed home with the still unnamed puppy in tow to receive the prognosis we all dread: she had some time – but little of it. And while her boy could go home for hospice care, an eight-week-old bundle of puppy energy was not exactly what the doctor ordered.

At a time that is supposed to be filled with new puppy joy, there was only overwhelming sadness, chaos, and guilt. Puppies that have recently left their litter need reassurance, time, and patience. But her heart and focus were understandably with Sully, ensuring his comfort and trying to make the most of the time they had left together. Emotionally and physically exhausted, she knew that the best thing for all would be to find a short-term foster for the puppy. My fellow Homeward Bound volunteer connected us, and two hours later, the little fuzz ball was home with my Yogi and Jackson.

I had been warned that she was a bit “vocal” (read “screamer”) when left alone. I guessed that a large part of that was leaving the litter. My boys were just what she needed to make a successful transition – the role that her big brother Sully was planned to fill for her.

Yogi, as usual, was her instant playmate – while Jackson adopted his more aloof stance.

She dished out her tiny terror in unrelenting waves on Yogi,

but she looked up to Jackson. When it came time to snuggle, it was Jackson she sought out. With a mixture of disgust and resignation, he reluctantly surrendered to her charm.

Mom stayed in constant touch, and along the way little girl acquired a name: Shaye.

Rather than test her night-time vocal cords, we set up a crate in the bedroom – a fostering first for our temporary puppy residents. The bedroom is usually reserved for Yogi and Jackson as their safe and quiet zone. But I value my sleep, so the boys were sacrificed. As long as Shaye could see them both nearby, she went right in, settled – and slept through the night. What kind of puppy is this?

We quickly saw what a special girl she was – and despite our best intentions – she crawled right into our hearts.

In so many ways, she reminded me and my husband of our sweet Bella as a pup. A total joy spreader. Maybe the universe knew that her new mom would be in extra need of that.

Mom got the time she needed to say ‘goodbye’ to Sully – and we got an extra special dose of puppy love.
This parting was just a little harder than the others. Come and visit anytime, sweet Shaye.

Autumn is the Hush

“I’m not ready for winter” is the refrain I hear as the fog sets in and the volunteers don their winter wools. But I am. Or nearly so.

The garden is putting on its final show – a glorious crown to a long, hot summer.

As if it saved up all its energy for a final encore, displaying its growing maturity in tall drifts of purple, orange, pink and gold.

By the end of the month, the raising of the beds will be complete,

the dahlias lifted, the bulbs installed for spring, and the remaining leaves turned to mulch. Then, the garden and I will both be ready for a long rest.

“What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.” ~John Steinbeck

Reading about wildflower seeds, I tried an experiment and set some packets of wild Columbine, heirloom Poppy, and butterfly mixes in the soil and simply stomped them into the ground. If nature can self-sow, why not help her along?

“Over everything connected with autumn there lingers some golden spell—some unseen influence that penetrates the soul with its mysterious power.” ~Northern Advocate

With so many “going-homes,” even the kennel is quieter with room in the inn. It goes in waves this way. Enjoy it while you can; linger longer with each pup until the next transport arrives. You will hear no complaints from them.

“No spring nor summer’s beauty hath such grace
As I have seen in one Autumnal face.” ~ John Donne, “Elegy IX: The Autumnal”

If the tempo of summer is allegro – fall, despite all of its chores, is adagio. A slower pace. A gradual letting go. A last romp in grassy fields and golden sun before the rains and mud.

“Autumn is the hush before winter.” ~ French Proverb

Everything In Its Season

I love the velvety purple stalks of Mexican sage. It heralds fall; its amethyst hues offset by the season’s golden leaves. A perennial in most gardens – but not in our Homeward Bound Memorial Garden. It is too wet in winter, and too hot in summer. The clay soil and baking sun are too much for this tough, but not quite tough enough, sage.

The first three seasons, I moved it to different spots in the garden hoping I would find just the right home for it to thrive. But no amount of pampering made a difference. It was magnificent in fall and gone by spring, never to sprout again.

Now, I treat it as an annual. I find a spot where it can be spectacular while enjoying and enhancing the company of others.

And when it is finished blooming, I thank it for its beauty, plant spring bulbs over it, and bid it a fond adieu.

Despite our best efforts, some things we love are not meant to be with us for long. I think that only makes them more precious.

Lindsey was our miracle puppy. Born an insulin-dependent diabetic, she should not have seen a few weeks much less nearly a year.

“She’s going to break your heart,” our Doc said. It is a kind way of saying ‘let her go.’ If Lindsey had been in pain, we would have seen the wisdom in that. But while Lindsey was a perpetual tiny girl…

she was happy and loved and fawned over until she left us as suddenly as she came to us – passing quietly away in the night.

Cavanaugh is 14.

Karma, only eight.

Both were left in shelters with terminal medical issues. For both, their time is likely measured in weeks, maybe months, but not years. Both were deserving of a much better ending. So they came to us and we were told, “just love them and spoil them.”

This is one of the most important gifts we can offer. Without any expectation that they will see the coming spring, we can be there for them when they need us most.

Karma will be going home this week. We call it hospice foster, matching special needs dogs with extraordinary angels who know that it is not the number of days that count, but the quality of our time together.

It’s hard to love them so when you know the time is short. Still, because the time is short, it is impossible not to love them even more.

“Every blade in the field, every leaf in the forest, lays down its life in its season, as beautifully as it was taken up.” ~ Henry David Thoreau

Dogs, like people, do not come with expiration dates. Love while you can. Live every day. Give what you are able knowing that you made a difference. You never know how something beautiful will be reborn.

We Now Return to Our Regularly Scheduled Program

For the first time in months, I have a weekend without a work project – and without a puppy. Little Journey has found her forever home.

Now named Charli, she greeted her new Mom with a smother of kisses and flat out stole her heart. But she picked the right heart, because this Mom is an experienced dog person and a good leader with kind instincts. Charli has grown kids to play with, a new Dad who is making her steps so she can reach the people bed, and a one-year-old canine cousin named Max who will keep her in her place. She has a big backyard, lives by the lake, and when she is old enough, will become Mom’s running companion. I could not be happier for her – or for her new family.

Another delight: my wayward gardeners have returned as fall has arrived.

Ina finished making the shed immaculate and moved the Lilac tree to a much happier home. Peggy and Steve were back with Mary who was being watched carefully having spent two days in intensive care for eating raisins!

And Maria set the stage for fall with her scarecrows and adorable pumpkin patch.

Anna is permanently excused (until Rose pruning day) for her work as an adoption counselor – and care of her latest charge, Nala.

The garden, meanwhile, is stunning.

Once towering stalks of budding Asters are now bent and beautiful mounds with their purple blossoms covered in bees and butterflies.

The Dahlias have never been larger or continued their blooms so late in the season.

They have thrived in their new home.

And Going Home photos are now staged in front of turning trees – creating loads of heavenly leaf mulch to lighten the clay soil in the beds this spring.

It is time for reveling in the colors of Autumn, raising the beds, and planting bulbs before putting the garden to rest for winter.

And hopefully, a brief hold on puppies!! Happy life, ~~Journey~~ Charli girl!

A Girl Named Journey

How a garden is begun determines everything about how it grows. It starts with a solid foundation of good soil. It requires just the right amount of sunlight, water and nurturing until its roots are firmly planted to support its future brilliance.

Maybe I am a gluten for punishment, or maybe I just love puppies. Either way, I find myself fostering another one. Her name is Journey. And like a new garden, she requires some nurturing to find her forever home.

She arrived the same time as Irish’s litter. An 18-year-old who would soon be leaving for college brought her home as a surprise for his mother. It was an unwelcome surprise, and so, she came to us at the age of three months.

Puppies are always in high demand. One that was already old enough to be home would not be with us long. She went home with a man who fell for her obvious German Shepherd mix – one of his favorite breeds. He returned her less than 24 hours later because she threw up in his car and whined when she got home. This was our bad.

She went home again with a young couple. The husband was in love, but the wife was not really on board from the start. She was returned quickly for being too much work (in other words, a puppy).

The third match seemed like a good fit. But Journey is not your average snuggly, submissive puppy. She is an independent, sometimes headstrong girl. They described her as “defiant.” The wife thought she was not “alpha” enough to handle her. Someone said she resource-guarded. You would think she was Cujo at four months of age.

By her third return, I was on my second batch of puppies. Our president took her home and worked with her. The “defiance” – which was just bad, untrained puppy behavior – disappeared quickly with her firm, but kind corrections. Still, her puppy bites and jumps were off-putting to our other volunteers who had less experience or patience for puppy transgressions. Now five months of age, what Journey needed was what every puppy needs: both love and firmness, consistency of expectation and follow through.

Had I not been so preoccupied with the puppy litters, I would have spent time with her sooner. She was my garden helper for a week.

She responded quickly to corrections and commands. We tested her supposed resource guarding. No issues. But her play with other dogs was atrocious.

So I brought her home to foster thinking my Yogi boy could teach her some better manners.

What a puppy experiences shapes the dog they become. If they leave their mothers or litter mates too soon, they miss out on important dog-to-dog socialization. What Journey needed was an appropriate helper dog to expend her energy and teach her how to play politely with other dogs. My Yogi has issued corrections to the puppies we have fostered – but this little girl had my 70-lb. boy pinned in less than two minutes.

Biting at ears, lips, throat, and boy body parts was not going to get this girl home – and, as she grew older and bigger, would significantly limit her experiences.

There is no one training technique that works for all dogs – much less all puppies. Through trial and error, and the good advice of my fellow rescue volunteers, I shifted Journey’s play with Yogi to games of fetch/chase and tug of war. He’s too fast for her to catch, and a tug toy gave her something safe to bite on. As soon as she escalated, she earned a water squirt. If that failed, she went to timeout. Within two days, their play was dramatically different – to Yogi’s great relief!

By chance, we got a new dog in: a ten-month-old named Jack the Lab (aka Jack the Tank!) who joined Journey in the puppy yard for some play. Within seconds of her misdeeds – he had her pinned!

She delighted in the play but quickly learned that biting would earn her a smackdown.

In puppy class, a beautiful year-old Golden named Oden took a shine to her.

He lets her get away with nothing, and if she tries to be inappropriate with any of the smaller dogs, he body checks her to the ground.

These are the kind of corrections that puppies usually get from their mama dogs and litter mates. For reasons we’ll never know, Journey missed them.

While Jack and Oden issue corrections (nicely), Yogi delivers the love. And increasingly, those sharp puppy teeth are being replaced by kisses.

My goal is for Journey’s next family to be her forever family. My hope is that her life will be filled with journeys – of adventure.

Return to the Garden

“Where will you begin?” she asked.
“At the beginning, I guess.”

This sign was posted over our shed door. The weeds are indeed laughing. Two hours after the last puppy of Irish’s litter was adopted, in rolled the van with six more! I can’t show them to you due to a promise we made to the kind human who brought them to us. She saw that they were in need and intervened. We won’t give her up as she may yet return with more.

Needless to say, my hoped for return to the garden was again delayed. And the weeds took full advantage. The blueberries were overrun, the paths were overtaken, crabgrass invaded, and the garden shed disappeared in a mass of cobwebs.

Maria refused to weed the herb garden bed; she said that it was all to be gone or she was washing her hands of it. I couldn’t bear to see it all dug up and sitting empty; we have months to go before the winter. So it has been reclaimed as a community bed. Let the whining begin.

As the last litter numbers dwindled over the course of a week, I was able to spend a little more time in the garden. Bit by bit, it is getting there. And with our last two little fluff balls now safely home, the garden is ~~mine~~ ours. And the weeds? Well who is laughing now?!

The Dahlias are beautiful.

The blueberries are once again peacefully co-existing with the California poppies and smothered in the pine needles they love.

The grapes are still producing…in September!

And as our rivers are still full from our long wet winter, I am watering, watering, watering to bring the garden back to life.

Now that the weather is beginning to cool, the gardeners, too, are making their return. Maria is planning her October display, Dee cleared out the daylilies,

Rob rebuilt the leaf mulch container for fall,

and Ina cleaned the garden shed!

Puppies are a joy – and they need what they need when they need it. Many of their new families stay in touch and I delight in seeing the pictures of them growing as fast as the weeds in the garden. (This is Mocha with his new big brother.)

I am so proud of them. I miss them a tiny bit. Still, I am happy to be back in the garden.

Waiting. Hoping. Praying.

If the good deeds we have done together entitle us in any small way to call in a special request from above – we need that now. One of our own has fallen ill. She is loved and needed by her family, her extended rescue family, and by the dogs.

Because I am helpless to do more right now than to call for the prayers and good wishes of all, I send you flowers from the garden we both love.

And news that Chewy – one of your heart dogs – found his forever home today.

He fell instantly in love with his new little boy and will watch over him the way your family and we are watching over you. Waiting. Hoping. Praying for your full return to us.

Beckoning Fall’s Glory

The Delta Breeze finally blew in off the Bay, bringing an end to the stifling heat and still air while providing welcome relief to the parched garden. The days are still warm, but the cool nights provide a long-awaited respite after the months long scorching summer sun. The ground holds its drink better; the wind breathes life back into exhausted plants.

Fall is my favorite season. Here, it is a second spring extending our flowering season from September through Thanksgiving. The vivid colors of summer give way to the richness of gold, crimson, and purple velvet.

Instead of the giddy anticipation of spring or the trumpeting of summer, fall is a time for soaking it all in as the sun turns gold and the season slowly turns another page.

“Summer ends, and Autumn comes, and he who would have it otherwise would have high tide always and a full moon every night; and thus he would never know the rhythms that are at the heart of life.” ~ Hal Borland

Which is not to say that fall is not busy in the garden. The beds must be raised in preparation for winter rains, the bulbs planted, and the leaves mulched. And then, there is all the catch up required after a summer of distracting puppies!

The garden work provides time for reflection while surrounded by the chirping of tiny frogs in fading rose blossoms,

the call of birds gathering by the hundreds, and the watchful eyes of a beloved friend.

The low asters beckon to their relatives towering above them – all started from one transplant from the Historic Sacramento City Cemetery.

They will soon create violet waves across the garden. And as the leaves change color and drop to the ground, the garden will remind us again of life’s impermanence.

“The days may not be so bright and balmy — yet the quiet and melancholy that linger around them is fraught with glory. Over everything connected with autumn there lingers some golden spell—some unseen influence that penetrates the soul with its mysterious power.” ~ Northern Advocate

Here’s to warm afternoons turning to sweaters, and green turning to purple and gold glory. Here’s to fall.