The Greyhound's New Vocation

So I'm standing in front of my rose bushes, intent on pruning, and, as usual, having no fracking idea how to proceed.

I've been gardening pretty much all my life. Although, granted, my earliest efforts probably consisted more of consuming dirt than actually planting stuff in it. But when it comes to gardening in the desert southwest, my wee brain holds an encyclopedia of know-how.

But when it comes to pruning roses, I'm utterly flummoxed.

The greyhound, a retired racer, doesn't share my lack of confidence regarding the proper shape of roses. When I turned my back, he "helped" by grabbing an entire branch and tearing it off the bush.

When I pull weeds, he also assists by grabbing any nearby plant and yanking it out of the ground, even if it isn't a weed.

Racing didn't work out (one race; dead last), so it looks like the hound now has his sights set on gardening.