"Ain't No Sunshine"

It’s a gloomy day here at my Hamptons garden. Clayton, my older black schnauzer, passed away today. He, like my garden, was 14 years old. Over the past year he had been struggling with old age and dementia. I’m so happy his suffering is over, but I really wasn’t ready for him to go. I knew his eventual passing would be sad, but I never knew it would also hurt so much.

I think it is finally time for me to admit that this was actually Clayton’s garden. I was just the caretaker. No one loved being out in this garden more than Clayton. Rain or shine, he was eager to go outside and play. Even during the coldest days of winter, he would sit by the back door shaking with anticipation until someone let him out to roam. Each time I came home after being away, Clayton would give me a quick greeting before darting outside to see what was going on in his domain. He patrolled the garden, chasing away feisty squirrels, hungry bunnies or squawking crows. This self-taught watchdog would run the fence perimeter barking incessantly at the deer on the other side, warning them that they were not welcome (although I also wondered sometimes if he didn’t see them as potential playmates).

I’m so glad that God allowed him his first and only hunting triumph last spring before his senility set in. Last April, I saw him proudly carrying around what I thought was a stuffed toy near the shed. When I got closer, I realized it was a real rabbit in his mouth. I was able to get him to release easily the stiff carcass from his limited teeth. After studying it, I determined that Clayton didn’t kill this creature, but he must have found a dead body. And although I surmised that this bunny died from natural causes days before, I pet my little hunter’s head, congratulating him on his big conquest.

Clayton and my garden in their first year

Clayton has been here since the beginning of my garden pursuits. Even when he was too little to get off the front porch, he would watch and bark from above while I mowed my first pathetic lawn. Once he was bigger and the garden was fenced in, Clayton would explore the property for hours each time he went outside. He was always busy. He made me feel guilty every time I sat by the pool for a few minutes. Sometimes you could hear barking in the distance or you would see him pop out of a perennial border near where I was sitting then quickly dart back into another planting bed. While there were plenty of grassy paths throughout the garden, he had his own secret highway to get around. Through the ferns, shrubs, and ornamental grasses he could get to the back garden without ever being seen.

Up until this past year, his hearing was amazing. He would start barking as soon as he heard a friend or delivery driving up on the gravel drive. Even when I was busy gardening in the back, I always knew when we had guests. He usually beat me to the car park, barking and wagging his tail at the new arrival. Everyone got the same enthusiastic greeting to his garden.

I give Clayton credit for teaching me a few important garden truths. Plants are much tougher than I originally thought, surviving even after being trampled or dug up by an overactive terrier. He also taught me that the garden should be enjoyed even when the plantings aren’t perfect or when weather isn’t ideal.

It is going to be sad and lonely outside this summer without my little garden buddy. But I will try to keep the garden going this season, if not for me, in remembrance of Clayton.

Woody House

2013 ARF Garden Tour