The Bow That Keeps Tulips Tall — Behind the hedge of the tulip court, where bees made a low zzz in the warm air, Brindle pressed a strip of raspberry cloth flat with one careful paw. Read the full story →
Behind the hedge of the tulip court, where bees made a low zzz in the warm air, Brindle pressed a strip of raspberry cloth flat with one careful paw. He wanted to make a badge all by himself before the Spring Measuring, but every paper badge drooped in the dew. “There has to be a stronger way,” he whispered, snipping, folding, and tying until his paws smelled like leaves and glue.
The smallest tulip bent so far its cup nearly kissed the dirt. Brindle nudged it upright and heard a tiny clack inside the hollow stem. Nobody ever checked there; everyone looked at petals. Out slid a smooth wooden pinch-clip, left by the first gardener, just the right size to hold cloth tight without biting.
Brindle clipped his hand-tied bow under his chin, then used the leftover ribbon to brace the sleepy tulip. It stood tall by sunset, proud as a flag. Ever since, spaniels in that garden wear bows, and tulips stand a little straighter when a dog with patient paws passes by. If you spot the neat bow among the tulips, keep the secret: Brindle made the first one himself.