Jon's grandpa gave us some hostas. I know these are hardy plants, but after this morning I'll be surprised if they survive.
I planted two of them in the back of the yard. As I was doing this, Polly was watching. I probably looked just like her with less fur. I'm digging in the dirt like I imagine a dog would and she probably thought it looked like fun.
After getting all dirty, I went in to clean up. Went back to the deck to let Polly in. Looked back at my hostas-they were on their sides.
Furious I ran outside yelling at Polly at how bad she was. Dragged her over to the plants and scolded her again, then proceeded to try and replant them with my now bare hands.
She also managed to take out the only Lily stalk I had left.
Bad Polly.
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