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My Impromptu Dog Garden, For a Season

My long-term gardening plan where I live in Maine is simple in the abstract: let the woods grow in from the edges over time and find something other than grass in the middle.

As always in a garden, concrete reality becomes more complicated.

I’ve got dogs.  Big dogs.  Digging dogs.  These big digging dogs have their favorite spaces to dig big holes, and it seems no matter how promptly I fill these holes up, the dogs will dig them back out again.  I’m reasonably comfortable with chaos, but my patience has its limits, and I’m trying to figure out how to reclaim these spots.

Sunflower seedlings in a spot held by a dog hole.

This year, I’m trying out sunflower seeds.  They germinate quickly and they grow quickly.  My hope is that if something’s there, the dogs will be flummoxed and fail to dig.  That’s my hope.  Reality may be more complicated.  When I went to snap this photo, my dogs followed me right to the spot and, seeing my attention to that spot, decided to roll in it.  There’s always a surprise in the garden.

What are you hoping for this year in your garden?  What have been your surprises?

2 thoughts on “My Impromptu Dog Garden, For a Season”

  1. ella says:

    All in all, after all of the loving attention I gave any number of garden seeds, I’d say my garden had beautiful green leaves. Nice large plants, and bloomed madly for a while. After waiting a while, I realized that the were nearly no veggies. Then finally some tomatoes – with blossom end rot. And some really strange looking peppers. But the winter squash did well, by then that was a surprise! On the bright side, summer has just begun and many of the plants are still there. Some of the tomatoes as beginning to come on naturally, and the cucumbers are beginning to bloom a little. Maybe as the summer cools off, the poor things will actually perk up and produce. Won’t I be surprised.

  2. Bill says:

    My surprise has been the total absence of rain for the past six weeks, combined with searing heat more appropriate to August than June. Our pastures are dead (except for the immortal and cursed curly dock). The grazing critters are not amused; neither am I. Even the Japanese beetles aren’t happy. Getting real tired of looking at brown fields.

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