dog fences

Poised on the brink of another spring — and retirement! — I’m considering the options for renovating my garden. As I’ve lamented in a number of posts, the back garden is dominated by two mature Norway maples and a Tree of Heaven (Ailanthus). The entire space (about 30 x 50 feet) has been infiltrated with a solid mat of maple roots, which makes it difficult to grow any but the toughest plants, especially in soil that is mostly sand, and in a summer-dry climate.

The Norway maples. Imagine the roots!

The Tree of Heaven. The huge red maple on the right is on a neighbour’s property.

More than once, I have decided to have the trees removed — all three of them. That would open up the sky above the garden and get rid of the roots (eventually). I could grow plants well that barely perform now — peonies, roses, delphiniums, irises! The water lilies in the pond would actually bloom!

Then I think about the disruption. A vigorous climbing rose (white flowers with a pink tinge, very double, in May and June) has slung itself over the lowest limbs of one of the maples. It would have either to be cut down or provided with some other support. Men with size 12 feet would tromp all over the place and there would be all that wood to deal with.

Climbing rose in maple

Then there’s the expense. Tree removal is not cheap, and I am about to swap money for time.

So I come around to leaving the trees alone and working on the plantings that share space with them. Here, I have a few options:

Remake the Beds. This means digging up the plants I value and stashing them somewhere while I dig out the surface roots and amend the soil with compost and other goodies. Then replant, adding new plants suitable for dry shade. Advantage: the plants will grow quite well for a while. Disadvantages: Back-breaking labour, and the effect would be temporary; in a few years the tree roots will re-grow.
Adjust the Beds. Identify attractive (to me) plants that actually thrive under the present conditions. Get rid of all the sad sacks and weedy specimens and add more of these superstars — mainly hellebores and ferns with spring-blooming bulbs. Fussier things (delphiniums and lilies) could be grown in pots and parachuted in for blobs of colour in season.
Keep the Status Quo. The trouble is, in gardens, there’s no such thing as status quo. Succession kicks in, some plants die, others prosper and in a few years it’s all rose campion, purple toadflax and feverfew jostling around the original hellebores. And yet, even a mess like that can look amazingly good in the slanting light of a summer evening, as long as the bed is defined by edging and trimming.

In the short term, i.e., the next year or two, I think I’ll go with a combination of options 1 and 2. The first thing will be to make the 18-inch tall wooden dog fence along the front of this area taller (by adding 3-foot pickets at 8 to 10-inch intervals) and installing a gate between the two sections of fence. That will make it possible to remove the goofy wire fence around the edge of the circular lawn. Aesthetics apart, that fence makes working in those beds way too hard.

Dog fences.

The next step will be to identify the plants that do well here already, both “quality” and “weedy” types. Undesirables and struggling specimens will be removed and selected areas dug over and replanted. (Of course all these labours will be performed by me, but somehow I can’t quite bring myself to say “I will remove, dig, replant, etc.”)

I keep reminding myself I will have ten extra hours most days of the week in which to accomplish this stuff. One way or another, the place will look like this again. Or better.

One year ago, we added a canine element to our household — a 2-month-old Newfoundland puppy named Nelly.

She has certainly made a difference both to house and garden.

Here is Nelly at 4 months checking out the area around the pond.

Nelly by the pond

It quickly became obvious that free access to all parts of the garden was not going to work. A 20-pound puppy bouncing around in the fall is one thing; a 50-pounder among the tender shoots of spring is another. Then there is the whole “potty patrol” issue.

A whole set of little fences was rapidly constructed. I can’t say they improve the appearance of the place, but considering the alternative, they are acceptable.

The New Look

Movable fence (and vintage plastic chairs)

The wooden picket fences are easily removed to permit lawn mowing and access to the adjacent beds. The wire fence around the circular lawn is nearly invisible, but the posts holding it up are not. I plan to replace them with more uniform and less visible wooden or metal posts.

Just now I am re-edging that circular lawn so the edge is outside the fence. Maintaining the edge is an exercise in frustration with the wire and posts in the way. For me, clipping lawn edges has a meditative quality, and a nice edge is crucial to that well-kept look, so something had to be done.

Re-edging under way (and another plastic chair)

Then there is the dog pee issue. (Living with a dog certainly brings one close to the basic elements of life). Even though it rains quite a lot here in most winters, the three small sections of grass in the back garden soon started to acquire brown patches. Dog urine, it seems, has the same effect as a fertilizer burn. Now I’m not a big lawn aficionado, but if a lawn is present in a garden it should look better than leprous. Not being in a position to rip it out and replace it with brick paving, I am now engaged in lawn repair — seeding with a mixture of fescues, perennial rye grass and clover, which are said to be urine “tolerant.” Thing is, since the existing lawn is already a pretty tough, mongrel mixture, including clover, but still died out in large patches, the repairs may not work.

The local sparrows, moreover, have discovered the smorgasbord of lawn seeds and descend in flocks every morning to hunt and peck. I have raked some fallen leaves over the seeded areas to cover the seeds. Once they have sprouted, I will remove the leaves. Then I’ll have to figure out how to protect the new grass and clover plants from The Dog.

Probably the worst episodes, the ones that brought the gardener in me to near-despair, were several instances of digging. Left to her own devices for a couple of hours, Nelly dug some fair-sized holes in the beleaguered lawns, ripping up tree roots to chew (commendable, if destructive) and, of course, earthworms. Sections of wire fencing and chicken wire, laid flat and weighted with rocks, prevented further digging. So (I hope) has the passage of time, but we’ll see what happens next winter and spring.

Garden, gardener and dog have survived the year. Newfoundlands are reputed to be among the most placid of dogs. Once they’re fully grown, they have a tendency to turn into canine couch potatoes and need encouragement to be active. Nelly’s favourite activity now is going for walks to the local off-leash park and nearby beach (from October to May only), where she can play with other dogs. But she likes to play at home too, with a bit of encouragement.

Playing in the garden

More playing in the garden

Happily, the small fences, which are only 18 inches to 2 feet tall, continue to be effective in protecting the beds from unwelcome visits. Nelly could easily jump over them, given sufficient incentive, but so far hasn’t been motivated. We did have to make sure there were no fallen apples to provide that incentive.

Garden and Newf coexisting (but note the barrier to the pond area)

Fortunately, the senior animal in the household has adapted to Nelly’s presence. I can’t say they’re friends as yet, but Zeke the 18-year-old cat and Nelly the Newf are getting along.