It has been a long, sad week without our dog buddy, Liam. I keep listening for him, wondering where he is. I save him bits of toast.  Is it time for him to go out? Very foolish to think these things, as I know he is gone, but old habits are hard to break.

Fortunately for me, the weather has been oh so fine, and I have worked in the gardens all week. Such a consolation, and I can only be grateful that Liam’s decline did not happen in the winter when we were stuck inside. Instead, like a terrier, I have been digging and moving hostas to fill in empty spots left by less hardy plants that didn’t make it. Finally, after nearly thirty years of gardening in this dry, shady yard, after spending too much money on plants that either died or didn’t thrive, I have given into hostas. Now, in our yard, hostas rule.

However, amid the calming foliage of the hostas, there are some budding irises, my favorites..

And front or back, everything is green, green, green. Our yard is held in the palm of the forest.

Amid the green, I love the dash of blue of the little fountain, given to me by “the kids” on my sixtieth birthday. When Clif and I sit on the patio, we can hear the gentle splash of water. So soothing.

And then there’s this dash of orange, which always livens things up.

Believe it or not, wild Sherlock is a comfort, too. He and his gentler sister, Ms. Watson, bring purring life to our evenings, settling beside us as we watch TV.

And so it goes into June. Soon the heavy gardening will be done, and after that, it will be on to bike riding. We’ll probably never be able to keep up with my blogging friend Tootlepedal, who recently biked seventy-six miles in honor of his seventy-six years, but we are going to step up our game, so to speak.

Biking, flowers, time on the patio. Come, summer, come!

Here is an update on Liam. On Tuesday, he had a very bad spell, lying prone on the floor for hours and hours. His breathing was labored, and we thought we were losing him. What a long day!

But then, when night came, Liam perked up. He was so weak that Clif had to carry him down the front steps to the backyard. But once in the backyard, Liam walked around, sniffed a bit, and even woofed when he heard the snorting of what we think was a deer.

Wednesday, he continued to gain strength, even though we had to help him get up from a lying position and carry him up and down the front steps.

Today, he is getting up by himself, but Clif is still carrying him up and down the front steps.

Liam is drinking water aplenty, but unfortunately he is still not eating.  I’m hoping he’ll soon turn the corner on this. If not, I’ll give the vets a call.

Because Lian is not eating, the pills must be pushed down his throat. How I hate, hate, hate to do this. I’d gladly clean up any stinky mess rather than force pills on him. But, as Clif pointed out, without the medicine, Liam would surely die.

Yes, he would. And so I do it. Actually, it takes two of us. Despite being so sick, that dog has mighty strong jaws.

We are feeling encouraged by the progress Liam has made, and to celebrate, here’s a close-up of one of my lovely irises.

Bloom on, flowers and dogs.

Fortunately, Maine has not been plagued with rough winds this week.  Our neighbors to the immediate south had to contend with tornado watches, lightening storms that took down trees and power lines, and wild, hard rain.

Instead, all has been relatively tranquil in the pine tree state. The days have been sunny, and we even had a small rain the other night to help all things growing. My one complaint: It has been a tad too cool, and a hard frost has been predicted for tonight. Back in the day, my father always waited until Memorial Day to plant his garden, and for tender plants such as tomatoes and basil, this is still a good guideline in Maine.

Speaking of darling buds of May…here’s a shot I took at the little park in town, after a bike ride.

One of my absolute favorite flowers ready to bloom.

In the woods edging our yard, the ferns have unfurled and are growing. Just last week, they were tucked into tight curls. Now look at them. Spring gallops by much too quickly.

The patio, in the middle of green (rather than white or, even worse, mud) is now an inviting place to sit. If you look closely, you will see a woodpecker at the feeder.

Little Miss Watson thinks the patio is a nice place, too.

I’m not the only one who loves our backyard.