This past weekend, I planted my herbs in these beautiful little pots the Easter bunny brought me, filled them with nutrient-rich dirt and saturated them with water until their thirst looked quenched. I was completely satisfied with the success of my little potted garden. I am now eagerly awaiting the time when I can pluck the rosemary, thyme, basil and cilantro that I’ve sowed… I may have to wait longer that I’d hoped on the basil. Due to its rapid growth, basil is not well-suited for the smaller, table-top planters that the other herbs now call home. The basil was transplanted into a much, much larger pot and haphazardly left on the deck. I should have given the basil a fair warning: Beware of Dog. Poor plant didn’t have a chance. I found the sad looking shrub ripped of most of its roots and tossed in the corner of the deck. Luckily, it wasn’t the edible plant the beast was after, more just playing in the fresh dirt.
After giving Wrigley a quick lesson on how to treat plants and a reminder that digging is not permitted, I re-planting what was left of the basil (it no longer stands upward, but mostly droops— it’s sadness is too much to try to hide) and moved the large planter under the deck to shield it not only from the wild dog, but also from the storms that were coming that night. Our hope being that the saddened basil would be strong enough and shielded enough under the deck to withstand the rain and winds and then we would move her to the side of the house (where I will inevitably forget about it and kill it due to lack of watering, let’s be honest).
The good news is that the sad basil survived the night. The bad news is that it received a second attack this morning. We didn’t get it moved to the side of the house soon enough. Luckily it was not ripped from its roots and thrown to the side. It was left standing, (or well, drooping) in the pot with very little dirt around it.
Sad, sad basil. I’m sorry I’ve let you down.
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