Poor gardenia, I knew it's days (hours, hell minutes, in this case) were numbered after Boots uprooted it yesterday. No sooner had I published my Rottweiler Wednesday post when I went back out on the porch to find this:
What? No, it's not what you're thinking. It wasn't me Mom. Actually that plant attacked me. I was just defending myself.
UGH! That little booger. She just couldn't leave it alone. It might have lived to flower another day, but she fixed that. All that was left was the root ball.
Ahhh...puppies. I knew better, too. I don't know if this is just a Rottie trait, but once they get on to something, it will never be safe again until they have completely dominated (destroyed) it.
Poor gardenia never had a chance!
