Abby is our Old English Sheepdog

Mike put this video together last summer of our Old English Sheepdog, Abby, but she's enjoyed the same spot in the sun this summer. It's her favorite place to nap during the day.

Abby had her ninth birthday recently. Some of you may remember my earlier post, Abby's Story, about our bringing her into our family via a Rescue group. There was the saddest loss in the group this past May. Steve Schott died suddenly. He was the man who fostered Abby not once, but twice, and who, as president of Texas Old English Sheepdog Rescue, was instrumental in the vitality of the group . We still miss his calls and emails. The last time we spoke on the phone he lamented, "You know, some of the first Sheepies that I placed into homes are beginning to die." But there are many Sheepies all across the United States still living their lives happily with families who rescued them, all because of Steve. He had a heart full of love and compassion, and I think of him often when I look at our precious Abby. What a great legacy.

• If you'd like to know more about the wonderful organization where we found Abby click here for Texas Old English Sheepdog Rescue.

• Once there, please notice the special memorial page for the wonderful Steve Schott.

• Also, if any of my readers are in the Houston, Texas, area please consider the special appeal for a foster home for a dog named "Tank." If you can help out, or know anyone who can, well ..... that would be super.

• There are rescue groups for nearly any breed of dog. And don't forget your local animal shelter, where many dogs and cats await homes...or would appreciate your time as a volunteer.

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Make Our Garden Grow

You've been a fool and so have I
But come I'll be your wife
And let us try before we die
To make some sense of life
We're neither pure nor wise nor good
We'll do the best we know
We'll build our house and chop our wood
And make our garden grow
And make our garden grow

I thought the world was sugar cake
For so our master said
But now I'll teach my hands to bake
Our loaf of daily bread
We're neither pure nor wise nor good
We'll do the best we know
We'll build our house and chop our wood
And make our garden grow
And make our garden grow

Let dreamers dream what worlds they please
Those Edens can't be found
The sweetest flowers
The fairest trees 
Are grown in solid ground
We're neither pure nor wise nor good
We'll do the best we know
We'll build our house and chop our wood
And make our garden grow
And make our garden grow
-from Candide






We planted our small garden last weekend. It seems late but it was our best timing given the extremely wet month of May. I read that because of the kind of spring we've had it actually isn't too late to put in a garden in this valley.

We bought a lot behind and to the side of our house in 2001 from the woman who intended to quarter her property and sell off the three empty lots for development (one quarter contains the house next door where she'd lived for decades). We're not talking large lots here, and if we hadn't saved the one next to us three giant Sequoias would have been sacrificed for a small house and garage. That is indeed what happened to the two other empty lots, and one contained a fourth Sequoia that, when felled, shook the entire block. A neighbor teenage girl methodically counted the 77 rings on that tree, and since the survivors were the same size we knew their age too. It's more than an honor to share our time here with these three giants who will be 80 years old this year.

There's a clearing in the lot that gets sun most of the day in the summer and that's where we planted our garden. It's next to the old potting shed that came with the lot. The shed enchants me and I think it holds a lot of promise but we haven't done anything with it yet except to store potting and yard supplies, and shelter stray cats.

Abby was our only pet to show interest in the creation of a garden. She lay down in between the garden space and the potting shed and supervised our work. The three of us had a beautiful day!

The experience over the weekend reminded me of "Make Our Garden Grow" from Candide by Leonard Bernstein. I tested many YouTube videos today and there are some marvelous versions of the song. But this one by Barbra Streisand was the only to get to the heart of us, Mike and me, and our days in the sun together.

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