A couple of weeks ago I transplanted a bunch of Hostas and Lilies of the Valley into a small shade garden by the back door of our house. The next day, I noticed in one spot the ferns and Lily of Valley were flattened as if someone had laid or walked on them. I suspected Lenore, but Jon insisted it was Frieda. (She’d the kind of dog that gets blamed for everything and with good reason). A few days later there was a hole in the ground in the same spot. Someone was digging. All this time I wasn’t able to catch any of the dogs in the act, but just now I walked out the back door and there was Lenore, innocently looking up at me though the Hosta leaves. Innocent, because she has no sense that she’s doing something wrong. She’s just resting in the cool damp soil. I thought of putting big rocks where she was laying, (we have plenty of rocks in Washington County) but then she would just flatten out another part of the garden. So I think I’ll move what’s left of the plants that are there and let Lenore have her garden bed.