I have been blessed
With two wonderful garden dogs.
The first was a West Highland Terrier
She ruled over my last garden.
But it is Peg who has been my buddy
My assistant, my companion
All the days I have gardened here.
Peg loved my garden.
When we first created it
We had a pretty healthy bunny population.
Each spring she would spend hours searching
You could tell how hot her trail was
By the speed of her wagging tail.
After Peg caught a couple of baby bunnies
They found other places to play.
Bugs on the other hand
Are prolific in a garden.
Each evening with the cooler summer air
Peg would spend hours on end “Buggin”.
Hopping and bouncing hoping to catch
One more cricket.
There would be nights when she was so deep into the blackness
That I simply had to patiently wait for her to finish
Before I could entice her in.
Now if you are thinking of Peg as a typical dog.
You would be right in some regards.
But, Peg was after all a Scottish Terrier.
And Scottish Terriers are very independent by nature.
Peg got a double dose!
Curious and friendly
Those who met her instantly connected with her sweet nature.
But a few minutes in Peg was done.
No need for all that oohing and awing.
Not being an “in your face dog”
Peg would park herself on the opposite
End of the couch.
Close, but not actually touching.
And so it was in the garden
She was always with me
But rarely in the way.
She did love to eat
Basically anything that hit the floor.
Especially crispy veggies.
One spring she not only ate the snap peas
She also helped herself to the tasty vines.
She loved watching the
Westminster Kennel Show.
A few weeks ago
After her summer vacation in Colorado
Peg got sick.
Though she tried
She simply couldn’t recover.
It was a grueling decision for John and me.
But it was time to let her go.
A kindly local vet offers cremation services
Which seemed right for Peg.
Recently John and I spread her ashes
In her favorite place
John wrote a poem for the occasion.
Reminding us of her nature
True to herself to the end.
Goodbye, sweet Peg,
Thanks for the days of companionship
In my garden.
LOOK BUT DON’T TOUCH
Regal and royal,
For nothing I beg.
Not feline but canine.
I am the “Peg”.
Aloof to all others,
A Scottie by breed.
Ignoring your voice,
Neglecting your heed.
A lick or a nuzzle,
For you is unsure.
My bloodline prevents it,
What’s yours? Is it pure?
Praise for my plumage,
On a neighborhood walk.
My head held high,
No time to talk.
Drawn to the garden,
Stalking crickets galore.
Bright flowers bow to me,
It is “Peg” they adore.
A pat or a scratch,
I quickly discard.
One shake and it falls of,
No thanks or regard.
As my nature demands it,
Engrained daily or such.
I say it quite firmly,
Look but don’t touch.
Goodbye Queen Peg