We got up today, greeting the sunshine and the new day all at the same time. Just Trixy and me. Assessing the chores for the day we decided to go with pulling weeds. They need to go! Being that it also was sunny, making it a good day for their eviction from the flower bed, so today was it. We decided to hit them where it hurts, because it has been dry for days now, along with the sun burning hottest at noon. It is hell on wheels for you weeds. These were my thoughts, and Trixy was in full agreement. Trixy was looking outside along with myself, as I was also holding her in my arms up to the window, looking at the front flower bed. Being held is truly a benefit of a small dog who just otherwise couldn’t see out the window.
Putting her down on the floor again, while looking for my mud-n shoes. She instinctively knew we are about to have some doggie fun. Sitting at the door she already had her mud-n shoes on, and was more than willing and ready to go.
Just as soon as the door is open she was off like a rocket. Barking… but what was she barking at? Nothing was out there for her to bark at. No neighbors, no mail-men, no delivery drivers, no kids, no bike riders / skate boards…. As she realized slowly,there was nothing to bark at. She just got buzzy with the job of evicting weeds. I would pull them and she would pick them up again and shake then vigorously. Dirt would fly in all directions, as soon as she thought this weed is killed, she would grab the next one. At times she would sit down and just rip the weeds into pieces, until they were un-recognizably so.
If I was pulling them to slowly she would stare at me as if to say ” Come on! The big one over there. Ya! Pull it! Come on, you can do it! Pull with all for your strength man, put your back into it!” exciting the dog with great anticipation of fun at the expense of the biggest weed.
But then the shovel would hit a rock hiding just under the surface of the dirt. Like an alarm going off inside of the dog, she would spring into action. Jumping into the flower bed and dig, dig, and dig some more. Of course telling her to get out-of-the-way of my next shovel strike, did nothing. She would look at me as if to say… ” I’m a dog…. can’t make out…. just what…. you’re trying to saying. I have been your pet for how long? You still can not bark out something I can understand?” Finley! The rock would be brought to the surface, like fishing. You never knowing just how big the fish is till you can see it, so it is for the rocks as well. If it is a big one Trixy would be in dirt heaven. Licking her chops and then the rock, just till the dirt was gone or till the sound of shovel striking another one was heard.
For Trixy rocks were of great value, and by her thinking she was going to find the most valuable ones and clean them off for me to check them out. Like a person gold panning, looking into the pan after washing the gravel out and searching for the flash-in-the-pan. The gold among the black sand, as the pay-day for all of the days hard labour. she would be by my side looking at every shovel full of dirt, looking for gold or so it seemed. For a dog though, recognizing the difference between a rock and just another rock, VS. a really big gold nugget was the challenge. Everything seemed all so valuable, all the same from one rock to the next nugget / rock. She had dog gold fever.
For most of the day we were digging in the dirt and having fun while doing it. She was right by my side the whole time. No slacking here. After planting some new plants and moving some old ones it came time to admire our work and clean up a bit. This ment we were going to use the garden hose of course. This was the most excellent of choices for raping up a days work. For Trixy she loved the hose and getting wet from it. But for this fun-loving dog she also hated the rain. To her rain and getting wet was some kind of hell not to be endured. But getting wet from the hose, was great fun. Getting wet from the hose while it was raining would be tolerated, after all… was it raining or was it just the hose?
Getting cleaned-up by hose and chasing the water-spout untill it hit the ground was the bombé. She would run and bark grab a few bites at the water and chase it untill she was full of water. Then she would sit by the hose bib waiting for it to just move a little. indicating it would be game on once again.
Cleaned up, and hosed off, even our mud-n shoes, it was now time to retired for the day. A job well done.
The value wasn’t in looking for gold, but rather in time spent with…..
All the best.