Triumph
In honor of Presidents Day, we threw a bit of a Homeward Bound garden party (while Penny slept!) extending our reach beyond the Memorial Garden boundary in support of the Sanctuary’s struggling trees. Seven of us gathered to free the ‘Scarlet Sprite’ (Grevillea rosmarinifolia) and Crepe Myrtles of their Morning Glory tormenters…
and clear the trees in the dog pens of their choking weeds. Before…
and after.
Capping off the day – the long-awaited Highbush Blueberries were finally installed. Regular readers will remember our battle to remove invasive blackberries from the site. Before…
and after.
Triumph was not ours alone today. I watched with delight as one of our trainers, Chris, played and worked with Lucy – one of the breeder pups who came to us just a few short weeks ago. Before…
and after.
“The harder the conflict, the greater the triumph.”
― George Washington
Our work outside the garden is not quite done; the day was called due to a change in weather and the fact that we ran out of room in the refuse pile. Nor is Lucy’s transformation complete, but great progress was made on all fronts. Special thanks to gardeners Randy, Vonnie, Peggy, Pat, Ina and Maria today. It makes the exhaustion so worthwhile.
Worth Waiting For
Some things are worth waiting for. Like a Robin anticipating spring…
bulbs pushing through the earth, signaling an end to winter…
0r dreams of forever homes finally come true. Our beloved Bogey was Homeward Bound’s blind, golden guest; regular readers have met him here before.
He may not see, but he has never let his blindness slow him down a bit. He goes careening through life with joyful abandon. Exuberant, playful, strong, and thoroughly adorable, Bogey has charmed all the volunteers who work with him.
We were pleased to provide a safe place for him to live and be loved. Resigned to his status, we made him an Angel Fund dog, and wrote on his description – “Insight is better than eyesight when it comes to seeing an angel.” ~ Eileen Elias Freeman. We said that Bogey had a special feeling his guardian angel was reading his description “right now.” Bogey was right.
On February 14th – Valentine’s Day – after three years in Sanctuary, Bogey was adopted. His adopter angels: two retired eye doctors.
We cannot begin to express our delight. A collective cheer could be heard across our ranks to read that Bogey spent his first night on the couch and his first day walking the canyons with his new forever family. Some things are definitely worth waiting for.
Happy life, Bogey friend (with special thanks and credit to our photographer friend, Rob Kessel). We will miss you!
Handle With Care
Saturday was spent continuing to clear the shrubs and trees along the drive of the pesky Morning Glories. Progress is slow, and my aches and pains are a reminder that I am not as young as I once was.
An impromptu trip to the nursery was fortuitous. The Highbush Blueberries were in stock, and going fast. I picked up 12; six for each raised bed where the blackberries were unceremoniously removed from their resting place in the Memorial Garden. There are four different varieties which will keep us in blueberries from early to late season – assuming success.
This is not a simple plop in the ground operation. The Highbush Blueberries can be grown in our area, but they still require extra care. They demand somewhat acidic soil and good drainage. Our raised bed will help with drainage; mounds running the length of the bed will assist. We’ll amend the soil to make it more acidic, incorporating compost and sand as well. I read that coffee grounds placed at the bottom of each planting hole can also help with the ph level. Guess it can’t hurt.
Finally, we are advised to mulch with a layer of pine straw – a luxury around here that has to be shipped in. These simple looking shoots should come with a difficulty label rating, like those projects you have to assemble. But we’re accustomed to handling things with extra care around here.
These sweet pups are breeder dog rescues. The come to us having spent their whole lives in the production of puppies. Unaccustomed to human interaction, building trust is a painfully slow process.
Chris and Steve dedicated a good portion of their morning to coaxing them out to sit in the sun, while learning that a human touch could be kind and comforting.
Kylo and Rose have both had recent surgeries to address long neglected issues.
“This is what you should do;
love the Earth
and sun and the animals…”
~ Walt Whitman
We will love them all at Homeward Bound.
Obsessed? Yes.
“The trouble with gardening is that it does not remain an avocation. It becomes an obsession.” ~ Phyllis McGinley
You know how you can become so accustomed to something that you don’t even see it anymore? Today, I suddenly noticed how neglected the entry way to the entire Sanctuary has become. While we did not exactly sign up for this duty, it desperately needs to be done.
Morning Glories are literally choking the Crepe Myrtles along the drive; shoots have grown out of control; and the bird-spread seeds are threatening to become full-grown trees.
I know we’re in the country, but this is not the first impression we want to make when adopting families come to meet the dogs. So out came the clippers and the under/over brush was cleared enough to see that this will take a garden clean-up day to complete. Time to put out the call for volunteers!
Obsession? Yes. But wait until I show you the ‘after!’
Scouts to the Rescue!
These are the Scouts of the Pioneer District, Miwok Chapter – members of Scouting’s National Honor Society: The Order of the Arrow. And luckily for us – they are experts at removing blackberry roots!
When Homeward Bound needs extra hands, talented builders and strong backs, these are the guys we turn to. Last summer, they built beautiful shade enclosures with seating by the pond for us, so our dog walkers would have a quiet place to work with the dogs. Today was all about digging. Within a few short hours, this crew obliterated the last of the blackberry roots from our raised beds, leaving them spotless and ready for planting Highbush Blueberries.
Meanwhile, the more senior members installed a new length of split rail fencing which now fronts the center of the garden, and creates a beautiful frame for Ina’s California Native Garden.
The Arrowmen of the Order of the Arrow are known for maintaining camping traditions and spirit, and for providing cheerful service to others. Truly. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that their efforts were powered by hot chocolate and donuts this morning! The Scouts perform service projects throughout their Miwok Chapter region. We’re so thankful it includes us.
Their generous service saves valuable resources for our organization that can be redirected to the rescue of hundreds of dogs each year. You’ve heard of Pitbulls and Parolees? Well, we have Scouts and Goldens. We think they make a wonderful combination.
Two Lives Saved
In my “Winter Gathered” post I promised the story of Maggie, the adopted Golden who literally saved her human dad’s life. I have the inside scoop as the compiler of the organization’s newsletter. Now that it has been published, I feel free to bring you her story now.
Bill and Carol adopted Maggie from Homeward Bound last year. It was love at first sight, but they had no way of knowing what a huge impact she would have on their lives until last October.
Bill had taken Maggie for her morning constitution. They walk on a remote wetland trail that runs behind their home. It is a beautiful place for a nature walk, but not a good place for a medical emergency. Bill collapsed on the trail; Maggie sprang into action. Like something out of a Lassie episode, she ran up the trail, around the corner, and down the block where she found a neighbor walking his dog. Excitedly encouraging the neighbor to follow her, she led him to the trail and then sprinted down the length of it. When the neighbor turned the corner, he saw Maggie about 60 yards away, sitting next to an unconscious Bill.
Emergency responders were called. Bill was revived and rushed to the hospital; he flat-lined a total of three times before undergoing emergency surgery to implant a pacemaker. The urgency was so great that it was done under local anesthesia. Ouch. The surgeon informed Carol that they had acted just in the nick of time.
“Our wonderful new dog Maggie had saved his life. She is an angel from heaven and she is the reason that Bill is alive today.”~ Carol
I guess this is the universe leveling the score. Carol and Bill saved Maggie’s life and gave her a wonderful forever home. She probably just thought she was returning the favor.
There are other inspiring stories in the newsletter. If you care to visit, you will find it here. Enjoy.
Incoming
If you look very closely, you can see the first signs of winter’s departure in the Homeward Bound Memorial Garden, not far behind the recent weeks’ frost.
Of course, the most beautiful colors in Northern California gardens this time of year come from the oranges and lemons that overflow our trees.
Maria and I finished the shrub roses today – and not a minute too soon, as they are already budding. We left these a little taller than the tea roses so they would continue to climb and cover the fences.
We welcomed and trained a couple of new dog walkers today. They are lured in with puppies before introducing them to the big dogs.
I had the pleasure of meeting Elia and her boy, Cooper. Elia adopted Cooper, and his son, Bear around Memorial Day in 2011. She continues to bring them to Homeward Bound for regular training and socialization.
The same tactic has apparently worked miracles on her two teen boys, who both cook and clean! Who knew?
Some of our best friends visited with us in the garden – Nicholas aka Obi who went from his walk to a bath –
and Gina with her twin best bud, Hank.
Thankfully, we have had a good number of adoptions recently – because the call “incoming!” best describes the latter part of the week. Meet Quinn,
Socrates,
and Kyo.
This is Gus.
While we can all see a little too much of Gus right now, that won’t be the case for long. He was adopted today by folks committed to his future weight reduction and exercise routine.
There’s a lot to love here, but we can’t wait to see the before and after.
And this is Christy.
We share a little in common. She is here is because she lost her human dad not long ago. On top of that, she had a needed surgery and dons this cute t-shirt to prevent her from popping her stitches…again.
She spent a good amount of time with us on a blanket in the garden monitoring the rose pruning while basking in the warm, January sun.
Good fortune shines upon her. A family came through that was instantly taken with her. Keep your fingers crossed; it looks like she might have found her forever home.
There are more on their way. It’s like that in rescue – and in gardens.
“The gardening season officially begins on January 1st and ends on December 31st.” – Marie Huston
imperfection
A friend shared a disappointment recently, which caused her to question the good she contributes to because the results have occasionally been imperfect. Sometimes, in trying to do too much, we end up doing too little. Now and then, that causes us to fail.
Like an over planted garden. We want to save them all, but the soil can only accommodate so many.
Hard choices sometimes have to be made. But in the end, they’ll stand stronger, taller and more brilliant if attention is focused on what can truly be supported well.
Of course, gardens are not living creatures. But a rare failure, however heartbreaking, should not cause us to question all.
“Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.”
― Winston Churchill
Mistakes will happen. Perfection is never achieved.
“Use what talent you possess: the woods would be very silent if no birds sang except those that sang best.” ~Author unknown
pausing
“Learn to pause … or nothing worthwhile will catch up to you.” ~ Doug King
Today I paused. I went to the Memorial Garden and worked only at my pace. I walked some dogs; stopping in the garden to spend time with each. A pat on the head; a belly rub; a promise to help them find a home again.
The garden is quiet in January. Everything is curled up in a tight, frost-bitten bundle protecting its roots and the shoots we will see by this time next month.
Just a few of us here – the walkers,
the birds,
and the dogs who keep us company.
“Every winter,
When the great sun has turned his face away,
The earth goes down into a vale of grief,
And fasts, and weeps, and shrouds herself in sables,
Leaving her wedding-garlands to decay –
Then leaps in spring to his returning kisses.”
~ Charles Kingsley
Until the spring leaps, we will gladly make do with dog kisses.
Telling the bees
I have been absent for a bit; apologies. This is for my father, who instilled in me a love of gardens and dogs; who entrusted his care to me – the middle daughter – for the past two years, making me a better person; and who passed early this morning after three days’ vigil.
Telling the Bees ~ by Deborah Digges
It fell to me to tell the bees,
though I had wanted another duty—
to be the scribbler at his death,
there chart the third day’s quickening.
But fate said no, it falls to you
to tell the bees, the middle daughter.
So it was written at your birth.
I wanted to keep the fire, working
the constant arranging and shifting
of the coals blown flaring,
my cheeks flushed red,
my bed laid down before the fire,
myself anonymous among the strangers
there who’d come and go.
But destiny said no. It falls
to you to tell the bees, it said.
I wanted to be the one to wash his linens,
boiling the death-soiled sheets,
using the waters for my tea.
I might have been the one to seal
his solitude with mud and thatch and string,
the webs he parted every morning,
the hounds’ hair combed from brushes,
the dust swept into piles with sparrows’ feathers.
Who makes the laws that live
inside the brick and mortar of a name,
selects the seeds, garden or wild,
brings forth the foliage grown up around it
through drought or blight or blossom,
the honey darkening in the bitter years,
the combs like funeral lace or wedding veils
steeped in oak gall and rainwater,
sequined of rent wings.
And so arrayed I set out, this once
obedient, toward the hives’ domed skeps
on evening’s hill, five tombs alight.
I thought I heard the thrash and moaning
of confinement, beyond the century,
a calling across dreams,
as if asked to make haste just out of sleep.
I knelt and waited.
The voice that found me gave the news.
Up flew the bees toward his orchards.
Winter Gathered
Jody and I had a rose pruning session in the (very cold) garden this morning. You’ll recall that we shared a grape pruning session recently.
I think she was pretending inexperience with roses (showing up with manual in hand) just to have an excuse to play in the garden. She took to it immediately, quickly pruning all of the tea roses in her bed. We did a quick lesson on one of the shrub roses growing along the fence, which we will not take back as far. Her instructions are to finish all 21 along the fence perimeter within the next two weeks.
I have been drafted for some marketing help for Homeward Bound (see what happens when you start a blog?) As a result, I spent a good part of my day capturing photos of dogs whose stories will appear in our newsletter and upcoming campaign. Spoiler alert: This is Maggie – she literally saved her Dad’s life. I will bring you the story as soon as it is published.
Cody, Lincoln, and Nicholas will all be featured in our campaign, “Fund of Love” which provides the support needed for up to $300,000 in extraordinary medical expenses that we incur each year.
And this is Rusty and Ginger – a beautiful pair, currently being fostered and in search of their forever home.
Somehow, I managed to get to the rest of the tea roses today; fifteen, I believe. I lost count. This very hungry bee was not happy with my work, clinging to a frost-bitten rose in the pile of clippings – and despairing about the branches left bare.
“Nature looks dead in winter because her life is gathered into her heart. She withers the plant down to the root that she may grow it up again fairer and stronger.” ~Hugh Macmillan, “Rejuvenescence,” The Ministry of Nature, 1871
Nature may be cold and bare in the winter, but we have Golden warmth gathered in our hearts.
Gardens For Goldens 