Today marks one week since my heart pup Lou fell into eternal sleep. And as much as I try to distract myself from the unbearable grief by spending time in the garden, one of my peaceful places of solace, I couldn’t help but notice my apathy and listlessness while harvesting the fresh veggies - an activity that I used to look forward to everyday. Today, I was just going through the motions - another chore to check off the list.

And then it dawned on me: it was not the fruits of my labor that I was looking forward to. It was the anticipation of excited barks and wagging tails that was waiting for me and my basket of garden harvests on the other side of the door. It was the joy of spoiling my pups with sun-kissed tomatoes and cucumbers and sugar snap peas. It was the pride I felt when I imagined that they were bragging to other dogs on our walk that “Our mama is so cool. She gives us fresh veggies from her garden!”

And I’ve always thought of myself as one who walks her own path and seeks no approval from others. But I really wanted to be the cool person that my pups thought I was. Thus, I garden, and in the process, the garden taught me more than I had bargained for…about Nature, about life, about myself.

Don’t get me wrong. I still love the act of gardening itself. I could never live without digging my hands in the warm soil, laughing at derpy squirrels who try to run away with my tomatoes, and spending long summer days reflecting about life while being serenaded by birds singing under the squash vines.

But as far as finding joy in the harvest itself…I shall have to let time bring that piece of my soul back. Or perhaps I will donate my vegetables to the local food kitchens so my harvest will gain a purpose again.

I think Lou would find that very cool.