Oh the joys of spring. There's pan-fried crappie, morel mushrooms and flowering dogwoods. Gardening ranks high on my list.
Sunday was a red-letter day at the hovel when my cat butler planted our vegetable garden or, as I call it, a deer food plot. The thing is, the CB's thumb is plaid, not green. If I, Boat Dock, wasn't there to supervise, he wouldn't know which end of the shovel to stick in the ground.
Our little raised-bed garden has two sides. On his side, there's cucumbers, a green pepper plant and four tomato plants. The furless one goes bananas over those red, juicy Better Boys and Arkansas Travelers he plants.
That is, when a miracle happens and something actually grows. Our victory garden generally raises a white flag by Memorial Day. Miracle-Gro can only do so much.
Meanwhile, on my side of the garden, my catnip plant is looking pretty.
Here is your gardening fact of the day: Catnip is a member of the mint family. It grows into a nice little bush that survives the winter for happy nipping all year. I started from scratch with a new plant this spring. My last one grew so big I had my manservant pull it so I could start a new one.
So excellent is my talent for growing the stuff that I might quit this newspaper gig and go into catnip farming full time. During my 19-hour power naps I'm curled up and dreaming of catnip, thousands of acres of catnip.
There's me, farmer Boat Dock , on the old John Deere, surveying my crop from the high seat. I look swell in my straw hat and blue overalls that compliment my orange fur.
I pick a sprig of catnip and chew it like a two-legged farmer chews grass. In my dream the CB brings out a pitcher of iced tea and some cookies.
In his sleep my manservant dreams he might get some tomatoes this year. You can bet he will -- when the farmers market opens.
I'll bet he couldn't grow a Chia Head if civilization depended on it. I feel feel sympathy for his lack of karma in the garden. He's like a big jug of Roundup with legs. At planting time his anti-fish magnetic field becomes an anti-veggie field.
If he could only grow green stuff in the garden like he does the refrigerator we'd be in business. Seriously, his attempts at gardening put the "ho ho ho" in the Jolly Green Giant.
One day this summer he'll reap his little harvest and fix a salad that might fit into a thimble with room left for dressing. His faithful tom cat will roll around in a bed of catnip the size of a washtub.
Here's a tip. He might try a little compost out of my litter box.
Boat Dock is feline outdoors columnist at the Northwest Arkansas Democrat-Gazette. His column appears when he feels like writing one. Write to Boat Dock on his Facebook page.
Sports on 04/23/2015