Dax, after my hearty breakfast of eggs and sausage (mental note: don't walk away from your plate), was ready for a journey.
Assortment of 25 daylilies and irises dug up that morning made the trip with us.
"Wake me when we get there."
"OK, are we there yet?"
Our rendezvous location was the best nursery in the Southeast: Petal From the Past in Jemison (thankfully 2 hours from the farm, otherwise I'd be there every chance I had).
Since we'd spent our time pulling up perennials instead of going for a run that morning, somebody was particularly primed for mischief. Let the Games begin.
The variety of perennials is mind boggling. Everything under the sun and everything for shade too.
So much to see and sniff, birdbaths everywhere for sips of water, and people, fresh victims all over the place.
Mark offered a number of times to hold Dax, so I could wander freely. Piece of cake for a farrier who handles 1200 lb horses all day. Right? Dax embarrassed him by performing one of his vertical jumps whereby he sprung up to eye level and tried to grab a woman's hat. Maybe that's why I kept overhearing him tell people the dog wasn't his!
For better or for worse, I am the owner of Baby Beelzebub. No one else will claim him.
For his grand finale, Dax met his first cats. They were laying in wait, unbeknownst to us, under the cashier's desk. Upon detecting them, Dax whined and promptly received a swat. That's when he barked, one cat careened out of the shop overturning a seed display on the way out. The other cat came around the corner, bowed up and ready to pounce. Dax lost it. He cried and barked like he'd been hit by a Mack truck, then he really lost it: bowel control. My hunting dog simultaneously pooped his pants and expressed his anal sacks. I realized this when I picked him up to save him from the approaching cat.
You know he used to embarrass me, now I guess I'm used to it. The commotion caused Mark to run back in to the store and collect Mr. Poopy Britches. I cleaned the floor, my arms and joined them outside with soapy towels for his bottom.
Too late for anonymity of sunglasses Mark.... "Enough mayhem caused here, where shall I reign terror next?"
Still traumatized from the feline encounter, Dax needed comforting the remaining hour drive to Grandma's house.
The weedy Before.
Sans weeds.
With daylilies, irises, foxgloves, lots of poppies, two different types of cut flower mixes.
All this work performed despite Dax's attempts at sabotage. A wake of pot destruction.
Sometimes he got too close to the flowers and his tether had to be shortened.
We rolled onto the farm half an hour shy of midnight. Entirely worth it especially because I had time to spend with my friends, Mark and Helene.
Next time, he will get his 5 mile run in before travelling--- for all our sakes!
