High Summer At Foxglove Farm

My favorite season is upon us at Foxglove Farm; even Agatha seems to enjoy the beautiful early mornings as we make the rounds to see what's blooming in the garden and which of our favorite birds are back with us for the summer.

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I’ve been so busy with the puppies, and now since Agatha’s Apothecary takes much of my time, I’d just about decided that this year I just couldn’t spare much time for the flowers and little bird garden I’ve been working on for the last couple of seasons. All it took was the glorious appearance of the Peonies and my other faithful perennials to discard that nonsense! How could I not take the time to enjoy the fruit of previous years labors? The flowers have been just beautiful, and I’m glad that my early mornings are spent OUTSIDE and not peering at the latest item topping my To-Do List!

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The old bird feeder has seen better days, but the birds don’t seem to mind, and I love its classic lines and vintage charm. The Bluebirds have decided it’s one of their favorite spots to keep watch over their tiny babies hidden in the little birdhouse that stands just a few feet away.

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I’ve promised myself a post or two devoted to the Bluebirds, they have had quite a struggle but I’m happy to say that with some help from Agatha & I, they have raised several broods of the most endearing little fuzzy babies you’ll ever see. They have become almost tame, not even flying away when I come out to sit with my coffee. That tale will have to wait, but suffice to say that even Agatha knows they are our friends and at a word from me she charges out to chase off any real (or imagined) menaces to our small friends.

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If you look carefully, you can see the male Bluebird on top of his house. It’s literally only about 20 feet from the kitchen door, I have amazing stories of these gorgeous and exceptionally friendly little birds. Agatha watches carefully for bluebird dangers, she really is a grand little pocket protector of all the little people at Foxglove Farm. She might only lick some of the offenders but at least she tries to look fierce.

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I’ll explain all the streamers in another post, I’ve become a reluctant expert on how to keep them safe!

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And so with a few peeks at the bird garden I’m determined to enjoy,,, I hope this finds you enjoying your summer, whether it be full of bluebirds or perhaps the beach or the mountains or maybe just a good book out in the hammock.  Go find some lemons and fix a nice glass of lemonade and sit a spell and rest yourself!

Warmest Wags,

Terry & Agatha

(& Mr & Mrs Bluebird too!)

Snow Bunny

Ohio gives up on winter rather slowly, just as the birds begin to sing and a few warm days tempt us winter-worn northerners into thinking that finally we can put away the woolies and start afresh with some spring things for a change.Agatha, on the other hand, loves snow with all her canine heart.  As I look out the window and alas, see yet another unseasonably late snowfall drifting down from what should be sunny skies.  I realize that at least some of the little people on the place will be exceedingly happy.  The snow accumulates quickly after all this IS Ohio, that's what snow does here.  I bundle into a warm jacket and head out to get a bit of fresh air and let Aggie do her favorite thing, roll around in the white stuff until she resembles a small dog shaped snow creature.First she stands trying to catch each flake as it falls from the sky, the icy crystals begin to frost her long coat liberally, I see a bath in her very near future.  Agatha says I am definitely no fun.   She races back and forth, happy and unaware while I plot bath-time revenge.She rolls luxuriously, rubbing her shoulders happily from side to side, I try not to run to the house for towels, I see visions of that fluffy coat melting liberally onto my clean kitchen floor.  How can I resist that joy-filled face?  Oh well, what's a bit of melted snow between friends?Uh oh,,, did somebody mention a BATH???  

Pandora Radio Is Making The Puppies Cry

I had decided it was time to change my much-loved fall theme to my even more beloved Christmas one.  Since the stores are full of Jingle Bell pillows and early Santas, I find the longing to bring in some of Christmas, perhaps a bit early this year.As I brought out my favorite little snowy bits, the tiny reindeer prancing, a wooly grey fox in a bright red jacket, I decide that of course it’s time to turn on the Christmas music.  Fiddling with the dial on our rather too complicated radio system, I was rewarded with the sweet strains of Silent Night, violin and cello achingly sweet.  Sudden tears sprang to my eyes, Christmas music always makes me sad, I’d forgotten.I drift back to my bright laundry room where the puppies were half dosing, waiting for me to do their Christmas photos so they could get back to the more important business of life. PLAYTIME!!!No one does Silent Night better than Manheim Steamroller, and as I slowed my pace to catch that poignant old melody, I heard it, a small plaintive “Woooo Woooo Woooo!” “Wooo Wooo Woooo!” Obviously, I wasn’t the only one who gets sad listening to Christmas music.I peeked around the corner of the hallway, and sure enough, there was a furry little bundle, his nose tipped to the ceiling doing his best to sing along.  ‘Woooo Woooo Woooo WOOO!” he wailed.  “Ooooo Wooooooo Oooo!”  There’s nothing more adorable and yet heart wrenching than the sound of a tiny Cavachon puppy mournfully wailing along with Silent Night.  It was that cello that did it I’m sure.After laughing rather unkindly at his little woebegone face, I scooped him up and told him that all was well, but that sometimes the sweetest things can touch our hearts and make us cry.He gave me a kiss with his flannel puppy tongue and was soon back at the business of being a puppy, paws waving in the air, trying to make off with one of Santa’s reindeer, he’s only a puppy and can’t stay sad for very long.  Besides, Santa will be here soon and everyone knows Santa always shares his Christmas cookies with any little puppies who happen to be waiting up for his arrival. 

Agatha Goes Camping

We decided to take a much-needed mini-vacation, it’s been a couple of years since we’ve really taken a break. With Christmas fast approaching and it’s typically rather frantic pace, now was the time to get away for a bit. Before the annual pleas from parents besieged with cries for a puppy and letters from puppy craving children begin to fill my Inbox.Ohio outdoes herself as fall begins to wane, the trees have been amazing, and I know that they’d best be enjoyed for the first snows are not far away.Agatha loves a road-trip, especially since we usually take an assortment of things along to make meals in the evenings, a few snacks that catch her attention the moment they come out of the bag.The first night we decided on a movie and, of course, popcorn. I try to keep our diet reasonably healthy, but occasionally, we all need popcorn. Agatha so agrees...To make up for our evening caloric excesses, we decide to try some exploring. The little farm where our cabin is situated borders a state forest, perfect for a hike and Agatha dances happily, ever ready to check the perimeter of any dwelling for possible intruders. She’s already been patrolling the interior, watching carefully out each door just in case she has to deal with a situation.Suddenly, in the midst of our getting jackets on for a much-needed bit of exercise, we realize that taking Agatha along might be a problem.The problem with this plan is that that our charming cabin comes equipped with it’s very own resident outdoor cabin cat.A very capable looking cabin cat, complete with very sharp dog dispatching claws. An exceedingly fierce cat who we watched dispatch the little dog from next-door with cat-like efficiency.Agatha has never seen a cat. I don’t know how we’ve missed this part of her canine education, we had a cat years ago, but he went to cat heaven long before Agatha arrived as a puppy.Sure enough, as we try to sneak out through the back door to avoid Agatha meeting the cat face-to-face, the inevitable happens and our plan begins to fall apart in several very important ways.First because cabin cat (who has begun to grow in my fertile imagination into a small panther), spies us coming innocently out the door. (Skulking out his door is how the cat termed it I’m sure).Agatha see’s her first glimpse of a real live cat.Agatha wants to see the cat, close up, very close up.Little does my small dog realize that this particular cat is perfectly willing and able to dispatch one small Cavalier King Charles Spaniel dog with the greatest of cat ease.Husband and I retreat to the kitchen to decide our next plan of action while aforementioned Cavalier stands at the screen door hurling insults at the now snarling cabin-panther-cat.My Hero, (also known as my husband John), decides to do a bit of dispatching of his own, and sends cabin cat off the deck in a cloud of dust. After all, he reasonably reminds me, we are paying a rather exorbitant amount to enjoy this cabin, not wrangle dog hating cats.With the cat happily off hunting dogs in greener pastures, we managed a rather brisk hike up the gigantic mountain (hill) behind the cabin. Agatha did a lot of pulling us strongly along at the end of her lead, scouting behind every tree for her new enemy.Thankfully, we were able to complete our hike and get back to the safety of our cabin with no serious cat/dog encounters for which I was exceedingly thankful.Agatha is napping, in her favorite position, with head on her paws, so she won’t miss a possible snack event. A large leaf hangs off her ear, a reminder of her victorious afternoon.She snores loudly, dreaming I’m sure of tomorrow and another chance to show that cat what a real dog looks like.I turn on the porch light and there sits her nemesis with a satisfied look on his feline face. He’s been washing his paws daintily, obviously pleased with himself after a hard day’s work. After all, tomorrow is another day he says.

Homeward Bound

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Fall is nearing it's last golden days, always a poignant time of year for me, my favorite in some ways, but a time that brings it's portion of sadness. Watching the leaves falling, falling, I realize that spring is still far far away, that many months of winter's cold are ahead. Winter with her own white beauty, an ambiguous time none-the-less.Agatha races up the long hill towards the house, far ahead of me. Her ears flying, her feet skimming the ground like those of a much younger dog. She dances to a halt halfway up to the top and turns facing me with eyes dancing with joy. She loves our evening walks, and as we get close to home she turns the last quarter mile into a self-appointed race to the kitchen door. She stands with plumed tail awag, panting a bit, as if to say "come on mom, isn't this fun, we're almost there!"I went to see mother at the nursing home today.  I've made her room as pleasant as pictures and cozy blankets, autumn flowers and a whole host of guilt-appeasing purchases can make it.  Outside her sunny window, I've placed feeders for her beloved birds, even a large window box (which I'm sure is not allowed) full of fall pansies, blooming.  Cheery orange and purple little faces all oblivious to the sadness within those walls.Mother's dementia and heart failure have made it out of the question for her to be anywhere but there in that place.  They are kind to her, I visit often, I come, always bearing gifts.  She finds forming a sentence nearly impossible these days, and I sit beside her, trying to make her laugh, trying to reach inside that crowding darkness.

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And so I walk up the long hill home, and I watch my good dog Agatha.  I think of life and how wonderful it is, how heartbreakingly beautiful, how full of sorrow.  I look at Agatha and childless, I mourn what I know will be the soon loss of my mother, I watch my little dog and wonder how many days I will have her at my feet for comfort.This isn't really the place for soul-searching perhaps, for such heartfelt ponderings.  But we all have our griefs don't we?  It is our human condition.  Oh, but I look toward the sky and as the sun sets in a blaze of purple-golden light, I think of Heaven.  I know mother will be freed soon from her sad time of waiting.  I know that I can trust Him with Agatha, with all the burdens of my heart. And I'm comforted, by the thought of mother tucked into her bed tonight with a cozy blanket, with her little stuffed dog at her side.  I'm comforted as my good dog, Agatha, dances with eyes alight, saying clearly that it's time to go back home.

Mercy Makes an Appearance

The sun went down this evening in a blaze of crimson across the early fall sky. I found myself hastily trying to find my camera to catch the last of beautiful amethyst and mauve clouds, breathing a prayer of thanks that this day had ended peacefully.It didn't for some and as an early morning email brought word of a young girl injured in a hiking accident and other of my prayers through this day were sent up for that hurting family, I wondered at what sorrow they must feel and chided myself for loving a mere dog as much as I do this latest in a lifetime of much-loved dogs, my Agatha.She was born on my birthday, many years after I had given up my dreams of children of my own, as each miscarriage took those hopes away, and as the years passed made me realize that those blessings were simply not going to be given in my life.But God has blessed John and I in so many ways, with loving friends and family and yes, given me small things to love as well, the four-footed ones that I've cared for over the years.I'm comforted that God Himself understands the love I have had for my dogs, the bond with this little Cavalier that brings so much enjoyment to my days. The Bible tells a story of a man that had a small lamb that he loved "like a daughter", and I'm comforted that He put that small story there, that He perhaps understands how our pets can sometimes help fill some of our empty places.So yes, my prayers this sunlit evening were of gratefulness, a small tragedy was averted yesterday when Agatha was accidentally closed on our side porch, an area that receives the full noon day sun. It had gotten over 90 degrees and the temperature where she was locked must have been well over a hundred.I was distracted with our new litter of puppies, engaging small folk indeed & thought Agatha had followed me back inside to the cool comfort of the air conditioning.A check in my spirit kept urging me to check on her & I dismissed it repeatedly, until it grew to a certainty that something was amiss with my little friend. Searching for her I finally backtracked my steps outside, and as I came around the side of the house heard a desperate scratching sound. Instantly I knew what had happened, I had accidentally closed the door thinking she was asleep in her basket when instead she was trapped in the broiling sun-filled space.Years working as a veterinary technician told me she was in the early stages of heat stroke and I raced to bring her temperature back down to normal, her tongue dry and already shaded with blue, her eyes frantic and afraid...Mercy appeared and grace made an entrance, her breathing soon was back to normal, and what could have been a heartache and loss ended with an exhausted but safe little dog asleep under my desk that evening. I of all people shouldn't have allowed such a thing to happen, I advise people every day on how to care for their pets, how to keep them well, keep them safe...I took a picture of the damage my poor little dog did the the door frame trying to tell me she was in trouble. The least destructive of creatures, I was shocked at the scratch marks, the vinyl torn from the frame around the door, though desperate, she must have waited long, reluctant to break "the rules" and tear at the door she'd known since puppyhood not to scratch.A mute reminder that we must have a care, slow down and pay attention, listen to those little warnings in our spirits to be sure all is well in our small worlds...But most of all, it'a reminder to send up thankful prayers that I'm granted more time with my dear little friend.

All Things Bright and Beautiful

Dear TerryI was thinking of you today when I took this picture of Tessie....We all love her so much and thought you would appreciate this sweet photo of her..Kindest Regards,KathleenIt's late night on an early October evening here in Ohio, the kind of evening that reminds one that winter is not far off, and that brisk night wind blowing through the orange and russet leaves will soon be howling round the windows of our snug little farmhouse, seeking it's chill way in through every crack and cranny.I take my good dog Agatha out for her evening constitutional, and as the wind blows scudding clouds past a weak quarter moon, not far off, down by the bottom pasture I hear it, an almost unearthly thin wavering cry and the hair stands up on the back of my neck. Instantly in my mind's eye I see the wistful little face of Tessie, now long gone and past any rescuing hand.I clutch Agatha's lead more tightly and cast a wary eye out through the darkness, gauging the closeness of the threats that occupy even the most residential and staid of our neighborhoods. The unseen dangers that stalk through our backyards long after we've gone to our beds every evening

I hope Kathleen doesn't see this post, if she does, though it will bring her pain to remember this sad episode,  I hope she'll forgive me the telling of Tessie's story if it saves even one other much loved little dog's life.

Kathleen had been a friend for years, she's from London and quite a dog lover as so many of the British are.  Her dogs, all Cavachons, Harley Tessie & Lola, were much adored and enjoyed a happy life with her husband and three children in a Columbus subdivision.  When she rang me one late fall day, a day much like this one I was totally unprepared for the story that her shaking voice unfolded.She had put the dogs out in the back garden as she called it, late the evening before.  She stood watching as they trotted about for one last sniff round before bed.  They were all moderately small, but not fragile or toy sized, and she wasn't particularly cautious, just waiting to wipe paws when they were ready to troop back in for bed.She turned away for just a few moments to answer a sleepy child's bedtime request, and when she returned to the door expecting to find her three little dogs impatiently waiting to be granted access to their beds for the night, instead to her dismay, only two frightened shaking dogs stood huddled close, scratching frantically for entrance.Hurriedly she opened the door and Lola and Harley rushed in, both trembling and obviously badly frightened.  Stunned, Katherine raced out into the dark yard, shouting Tessie's name, sweet Tessie whom she'd described to me just weeks before as her special darling."Terry, I love my dogs all of them so much, but Tessie, there is just something about her that is so special.  She's just the dearest dearest little thing, I love her so much I can't believe I could love a dog like this"Heartsick, she ran looking, calling for Tessie, the smallest, the gentlest of her little group.  The family roused, found flashlights, close neighbors called, urgently searching every part of the area. Repeatedly they scanned the back part of the lawn that reached down a small ravine to a park, their calls echoing on the empty air.The hours of searching turned into days and after learning to their horror and dismay that two dogs had been attacked and killed by coyotes the week before, a now frantic Katherine hired a professional wildlife tracker who grimly voiced the opinion that she was unlikely to ever see her beloved dog again.  Sadly, he was correct and no trace of small Tessie was ever found.And so I write this grim missive, on this frosty evening, as I listen for the predators that seek the small ones. The little ones that are unable to defend themselves against the dangers that can rob the unsuspecting of their much loved pets.The threat is all too real, reports of family pets being attacked and killed continue to rise, please take them to heart and find out if the place you call home has a coyote population.These animals are increasingly bold and opportunistic predators, though I love all animals, I love my dogs more and want those that belong my clients to be protected. Be especially cautious at night if your property borders a park or undeveloped area, remember the story of poor Tessie and keep your little ones safe.

The Rest of the Story

 I've heard it's National Dog Day and while I perhaps don't celebrate it as much as some might think, I am totally convinced that we all need a furry little someone at our heels.My dog's have added so much joy to my life, I've become passionate about convincing people that having a dog will really and truly make their lives better.  Many years ago I had a call from an older lady who had lost her husband and was contemplating dog ownership.I could hear the sadness in her voice and I began an animated attempt to convince her to take the puppy plunge, to get a dog and fill some of that emptiness with a small life that would make her the center of it's world.To make quite a long story a bit shorter, she decided that yes, getting a dog was indeed a good idea and a few days later she was the proud owner of a little blonde and white bundle of puppy bliss.  I didn't hear from her except for bits occasionally about life with her new dog and then one day I received the following letter."Thank you Thank you Thank you for MAKING me get a puppy!I was so afraid to take on the care of a dog, and you spent so much time with me and convinced me to take the plunge.  My life has so changed for the better, it's amazing!  I laugh at him, I have someone to talk to, I EXERCISE,,, I meet people in the neighborhood.  People stop their cars and tell me how adorable he is, I've made new friends because of this little dog,,, I cannot thank you enough for encouraging me to take this step, or tell you adequately how much joy Baxter has brought to my life.With sincere gratitude,Kathleen P.I often think of Kathleen, when I have a call from someone who's teetering on the fence about dog ownership, I wish I could read them her letter, I wish I could have them sit at my desk on a chilly early fall evening and have my good dog snuggle round their feet for a bit.Yes, I might not be celebrating National Dog Day on the outside, but in my heart I'm a fan...