WARNING: DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME

Originally the title of this post was going to be "Gardening with Puppies". It has been made clear to me, however, that you really shouldn't even bother to try.

The first bit of gardening I attempted this spring with Suki on hand was some simple weeding. Turns out nothing about weeding is simple with Suki on hand. As soon as I knelt down next to the perennials and started pulling weeds, Suki vaulted into the flower bed and planted herself squarely between me and the weeds. At first all I could see was the back of her head as she peered closely at what my hand was doing. Then I noticed that her feet were standing on the plant I was trying to weed around. It was at this point I discovered that she had no idea what "No, no, go away!" means.

Next I discovered that Suki really enjoys helping dig the holes that newly purchased shrubs will go into. That may sound genuinely helpful. Unfortunately, she enjoys digging the holes both before and after the shrub has been planted. I planted two lilacs and two blueberry bushes one afternoon and the next morning had to put the dirt back around the exposed roots of all four plants. I spent part of the morning putting temporary fences around each shrub to keep her from "helping" again.

There is one useful thing I have to give her credit for. Every now and then when she grabs the hose I am dragging across the yard, she accidentally pulls it the same direction I am going in.

There are other ways in which dogs make gardening challenging. You can't use slug bait, for instance. After my little dog Eubie followed me around snuffling up bait as soon as I put down, I figured I'd better check the label. In tiny, easily overlooked print there was a warning that the bait was highly attractive and highly toxic to dogs! Who would market something for use in your yard that was both enticing and poisonous? Cruella DeVille?

But, hey, if gardening with dogs around can be a little frustrating, it can be sweet sometimes, too. You can do things like make your puppy run in circles, snapping at a stream of water shooting from a garden hose. You can chose to laugh when she runs off with your gardening gloves for the forty seventh time. Or you can stop weeding at the end of the day and watch the red light of the low evening sun make a halo of her hair.

And the next morning refill the holes she made when she wasn't wearing her halo.