Garden Variety Gossip by Linda H. Light (elon musk reading list .TXT) 📖

“Everyone knows what she really is; who does she think she’s kidding?” Rose haughtily sneered, her red cheeks blushing in the mid-afternoon sun.

“She’s just common, skinny, and simple and yet she stands along the edge of the road like she’s some kind of celebrity that everyone wants to see,” added Lilly, her face pure and serene, but with an edge in her voice hinting at something different.

Everyone in the driveway bed giggled in agreement. It was an extremely warm afternoon in July, and everyone was feeling the wilt, which didn’t always bring out the best in them.

“A nice shower would be wonderful right now,” sighed Pansy, who obviously was suffering from the heat more than some of the others. “Rose, you don’t realize how fortunate you are that your nature lets you fair much better on these hot, dry days. I just have no energy, and I know I look a mess.”

“Well, at least you don’t have to worry about those disgusting Japanese beetles. They will be arriving soon, making pock marks on my beautiful face, and then who will want me in her wedding bouquet?” Rose retorted, not to be outdone by Pansy’s pathetic state of affairs.

“Yes, yes, girls,” piped in Daisy, but none of us will be alive to further discuss our miseries if that lazy, good-for-nothing gardener doesn’t get off his butt and deliver some water soon. At least Miss Blue Lady doesn’t have to worry about that. She’s so tough that she can go without water almost forever, and if old Merle just happens to get her with the weed whip, she’ll be back to her old self in just a couple of weeks. None of us can boast about that kind of independence. If the old butcher nicks us by accident, we might not recover until next season, or even worse . . . .”

Delphinium, who seldom said anything, lifted her demure voice. “You have to admit Blue Lady is somewhat elegant looking with her tall, slender form, and azure blue gown. Tender and tough at the same time is a fortunate genetic event.

“Old Merle is not the only intruder here that is a constant threat,” interjected Daisy once again. “That little Jack Russell dog is a menace. I watched her deliberately grab a hold of one of the young Sunflowers, rip it out by the roots, and shake it silly. Peony will never be the same because of that huge ball that the little varmit chases through the back yard. She is trampled down, and for the past several years has only produced a few blooms.”

“Well, just be glad that she’s not lifting her leg to oblige us with a bath like those neighborhood dogs do,” Daisy pointed out chuckling.


Rose fanned herself with her leaves. In the distance the sound of a weed whip began its fateful buzz. She raised her petals and turned in the direction of the noise. The whole garden tensed, and the chatter ceased. The old man’s bent figure slowly emerged from behind the storage shed. The high grass along the margin of the lawn began spurting in every direction like a vortex. From the back yard came the sharp bark of the little dog. “We must listen to this for as long as that maniac keeps driving that weed muncher because it drives that dog insane. I don’t know where she gets the energy to last through one of the old man’s terrorist sessions. He probably does it on purpose just to see her go mad. All of them watched the pair go through their weekly game, the dog racing like the wind and barking, old Merle thrusting the flying blade toward the dog, and her jumping backward just in time to keep from getting hit.

After a few seconds, each flower turned to its own musing, since it was difficult to have any more conversation with the loud noise growing closer. It wasn’t but a few minutes until a loud scream was heard. All faces turned toward the other side of the lawn. The buzz of the machine had stopped, but the screaming continued. The old man was down. The little dog just stood a little apart, alert with its right paw lifted. The cries had stopped, and the old man lay in silence in the grass.

Finally Lilly broke the silence of shock that had descended upon the garden. “Oh, my God,” she blurted. “Is he dead?”

Pansy began squealing, “What should we do? No human will hear us!”

Daisy was sobbing uncontrollably. No one had any idea, but the thought of the old man bleeding to death made them all sick, but none could avert their attention away from the sight.

The little dog bounded over to the still form on the ground. She licked his face and then what appeared to be the wound. Then she raced to the back door of the house. She began jumping at the patio door. She always did this when she wanted in the house.
The garden was full of jabbering, cheering on the little dog. “What if the old woman doesn’t hear the dog?” Rose questioned in a quivering voice.

“Just keep watching,” Delphinium replied knowingly. The dog added persistent, high-pitched barking that would wake the dead. Finally the old woman appeared at the door. The dog immediately grabbed the leg of her pants, pulling her toward the fallen figure. An unheard cheer went up among the garden figures as the dog let go and raced to the old man, with the woman hurrying as fast as age would allow. When she reached the old man, she collapsed to her knees and began checking for breathing. She then struggled to stand, pulled out her cell phone, and made a call. The little dog lay by the old man’s hand, licking it, while the old woman stroked his hair and spoke softly to him.


It wasn’t long until the ambulance arrived. The spunky little dog greeted the team in the same way she did everything else, with enthusiasm. They ran to the victim and began emergency assistance. After stopping the bleeding, treating the wound, and starting an IV, they hoisted the old man onto a stretcher and gently moved him to the back of the ambulance. The man was conscious but very pale and weak. The old woman got into the back of the vehicle and the EMTs shut the door. The driver made sure the little dog was locked safely behind the security fence. Still barking, she watched until she could see the ambulance no longer. Then she went to lie down on the stone patio by the French doors.

Everyone in the garden had forgotten what a warm day it was. It was now quiet with the weed eater lying still on the other side of the lawn. Delphinium spoke softly, “That little dog is a hero. She probably saved the old man’s life.” The others respectfully watched the little dog, saying nothing, but thinking the same thing.

Finally the silenced was broken: “I feel embarrassed about the things I’ve said about her,” commented Daisy. “She was just being herself, and we only saw a small part of her. When a difficult situation rose, she was again herself, but the best of herself.”

Rose and the others no longer were concerned about their looks, or being a little too warm, but rather began to look inward. As she turned her head, she once again spotted the Blue Lady. “Maybe she isn’t so bad after all. She is pretty, and tough too. Maybe we are just snobs, feeling good about ourselves because we can criticize someone else.”

Lilly, sighed. “Well, since this bunch seems to have turned too sober for me, I think I will withdraw from this conversation. I am bored with all of this self-examination. Nothing has changed. The dog saved the old man, which means he will probably be back to his noise making, which means the dog will yap without end, and we will still be thirsty, hot, and still have to put up with looking at the Blue Lady and her arrogant ways.

Some things never change thought Pansy, smiling.

Publication Date: 02-18-2010

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