death of a lawn

 

 

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra bits in between.

 

Sunday October  7th 2018

 

There are times when even the most dedicated procrastinator feels the need to act. Apparently, I hear, ’tis the season for resuscitating one’s lawn. This must be true, because when Isis and I arrive at Kings Heath Park on Friday, the gardeners are re- seeding the bald patches on the bowling green.

I watch, ask questions and learn.

When we reach home, I take a long look at my back garden.

This is not an inspiring experience.

Isis has danced away half of the grass. Every time she spends time there, another square metre is threatened with extinction.

 

 

 

It is imperative, I decide, to act before the entire ‘lawn’ has gone.

Sigh.

“You’ve got the loam, you’ve got the fertiliser, you’ve got the seed and you know what to do”, I tell myself. “Just do it.”

I unweave all the long grass from the plastic mesh. (Yes, I know there is no such word as ‘unweave’ but I think it helps to convey the painstaking nature of the task.)

It’s very hard work but, cunningly, I enlist Hairy One’s help. As I expect, she continuously challenges my right to exclude her from the bottom part of the garden, and thus reveals the sections of the fence which need strengthening.

Effortlessly, she ducks under one end of the fence and pops up on the other side of the buddleia. I move that end of the fence to a thick bramble patch. Yes!

She topples one of the black plastic tubes on her side of the barrier. I transfer all of the tubes to the other side. Yes!

She pushes against the fence and down goes another tube. I heave a large, heavy pot full of soil into each tube. Yes!

She paws vigorously at another section which wobbles and bends just enough for a determined dog to clamber over. I place three garden chairs at strategic places between the tubes. Yes?

I retreat to the house and wait.

Snake in mouth, she investigates the length of the fence

 

 

 

from end to end

 

 

 

before, eventually, giving up.

 

 

 

Then she lies down looking depressed and stares through the wire at her favourite playground.

I feel quite guilty, but she soon sniffs out a snake and carries it off.

Now I have to move on to the next stage.

Oh dear. It’s all action.

S-i-i-i-i-igh.

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra bits in between.

Isis came from the Aeza cat and dog rescue and adoption centre in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@aeza.org or  www.dogwatchuk.co.uk

This entry was posted in deaf/blind dog plays, dear little Isis, Isis at home and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to death of a lawn

  1. Ian Simkin says:

    Good luck with this plan….. you’ll need it 😉

    Like

    • What a little pessimist! I take it you’re thinking of Isis. 😔 Well, I fear you’re right to say good luck but but it’s the likelihood of the seeds growing I’m pessimistic about! 😱

      Like

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