Last year a squirrel pulled one of the branches off it which accounted for half of the tree. I shook my fist at the squirrels (a regular event at our house), cleaned it up, and watered what was left. It was unbalanced, but it was alive. I was hopeful.
Saturday I was out in the front yard and noticed that a branch had fallen from the willow oaks (a way too regular occurrence). Only one branch had fallen in the whole yard and it fell on my half a dogwood snapping the remaining portion off completely. I shook my fist at the willow oak, shook my head, and threw the branch away. I just pray that the dogwood will have the same will to survive that the hollies I am trying to eradicate exhibit and sprout anew. I am cautiously hopeful.
To compound matters, I got another dogwood from my friend Nic (who also helped me plant it) and there is currently not one leaf on it. Perhaps I am just not meant to have a dogwood in the yard.
I remain hopeful.
The perpetrator and the victim.
The victim, the carnage, the horror.