Raccoon holding damaged bonsai tree and explaining a zen garden incident.

Donna Lake accepts a bonsai tree from Milo the raccoon in a comic office scene.

Milo the raccoon announces a candle was brought to fix a smell in a comic office scene.

Donna Lake at her desk with a bonsai tree, saying she’ll check the new candle out later.

Black cat roasting marshmallows over a candle with a rake and a bag labeled “Puffed.”

Black cat holding a rake with flaming marshmallows over a purple candle and bag of marshmallows labeled “Puffed” burns up.

Transcript

[Panel 1]
Milo the raccoon stands in the hallway, clutching a bonsai tree with singed leaves and a sheepish expression.
Milo: Donna, I rescued the bonzai from the Zen garden ummm… incident.

[Panel 2]
Donna sits calmly at her desk, a nameplate reading “Donna Lake” in front of her. She addresses Milo off-panel.
Donna: Thanks, Milo. I’ll keep it here for now.

[Panel 3]
Milo looks earnestly helpful, paws clasped together.
Milo: And someone brought a candle to help with the smell!

[Panel 4]
Donna sets the bonsai on her desk and responds with composed curiosity.
Donna: Interesting. I’ll check it out when I’m done here.

[Panel 5]
Riley the black cat sits at a table with wide, focused eyes, calmly roasting three marshmallows over a large purple candle. A bag labeled “Puffed” lies nearby.

[Panel 6]
Chaos escalates. Riley watches unbothered as the marshmallow bag and the wooden rake he’s using are now both on fire. His expression remains completely neutral.

Bonsai Rescue

Posted on September 10, 2025 by donnalake

From Donna’s Desk

Subject: Office Plants, and the Things They Endure

Milo brought me the bonsai from the zen garden this morning. It was displaced by Riley’s “Natural expression of dominance and also maybe a comment on our mindfulness culture.” (Milo’s words)

The bonsai is now living on my desk. A little rattled, missing some gravel, but upright. Like the rest of us.

It’s made me think about the ongoing saga of office plants in general. People assume they’re low-maintenance, decorative, and peaceful. In this office, they are combatants in an unending war of good intentions and bad boundaries.

We’ve had cacti overwatered out of affection, succulents relocated to “better energy zones,” and one traumatized pothos that Drew (the sloth) swore was “refusing to self-actualize.” Finley once tried to report a fern to HR for being “emotionally spiky.” The report was accepted. HR remains unhelpful.

And yet, the plants keep coming. Gifted, adopted, sneakily propagated. They show up, take root, and quietly witness everything. They’re the real veterans of this department.

So tell me,

Do you have an office plant that’s outlived several employees? What’s its secret (and is it eligible for benefits)?

Have you ever tried to rescue a plant from your workplace? Did it survive the transition to civilian life?

What’s your personal philosophy on plants at work—decor, coworkers, or sentient beings silently judging us?

Drop a comment. I’ll be here, breathing extra oxygen.

—Donna