the miserable gardener

Once again it’s me, the noble dog, Chess, filling in for the guy I live with who doesn’t have much of anything interesting to say. Big surprise. You may remember me from such superior posts as “Mister Always Right” and “The Mysteries of Life”. Here I am watching the pizza box leave the kitchen. It still had pizza in it.

I should explain that the guy I live with had set the pizza box near the kitchen door, and wasn’t actually carrying the pizza box and holding a camera at the same time. Oh, it’s complicated.

Today marks the third year I’ve been an only dog, except for one horrible night with a rescue dog who hated me and bit me a lot. It was all the guy I live with’s fault. Without making things too sad, today was the day my buddy Slipper died, on the back patio, after a scary battle with liver cancer. I was right there with him. He was only 9.

The guy I live with has talked about getting a puppy for me to play with, but if you want to know the truth, I like being an only dog. The guy I live with is almost always at home, like my mommy was. The two of them liked being at home best of all, and my mommy spoiled me rotten. We were best friends.

So what did the guy I live with do to me today? He left me alone all by myself, to get a prescription filled, and then, what do you know, “stop off” at Timberline. Like it’s right next door to the drug store. (It isn’t.)

He took some pictures while he was there. They have lots and lots of plants there and he always finds something to bring home with him. (Of course, if he didn’t dig up so many plants in his garden, and kill so many others, maybe he wouldn’t have to bring more plants home all the time.)

He said he wants one of these. I admit it is pretty cool.

The guy I live with says he could drive down the interstate at 9 miles per hour and everybody behind him would get really mad.

I guess I should end this post with a picture of a flower. It’s better when things are all about me, but the guy I live with says I have to show at least one flower. That’s the arrangement we have. I talk about myself, then show a flower, and everything is okay.

I’ll end with that, then. Here’s Iris acutiloba var. lineolata.