Garden may be overstating it somewhat. I have a back yard which was overgrown with ivy, and a bit at the front which is largely inhabited by a Triffid. It's actually a Yucca Plant, but no-one calls it that. It is so big that before buying my flat, I actually asked the estate agent to confirm that I would own the front garden, so that Triffid-removal could take place unimpeded. Its sole advantage is that it's impossible for people to miss my flat when visiting for the first time: "Look for the Triffid on the left" always seems to work.
Having always lived in shared houses with little in the way of gardens, I know slightly less than naff-all about gardening. Fortunately, help was on hand in the form of the Best Friend, the Best Friend's Husband, and the Best Friend's Adorable Cute Baby. The latter was no use at all at gardening, but extremely good at being cute and entertaining. (Although he has developed the ability to roll off things, rather than staying put, which adds to that feeling of slight worry I always feel when encountering a small cute child - along the lines of "Please don't injure yourself if I turn my eyes away for a millisecond".)
They arrived with secateurs, a couple of buckets, and a fork, and attacked the overgrown ivy and honeysuckle with a will. I was using the fork to rake away chopped-up ivy and dead leaves from one of the beds at the back, when I saw something which, at first, looked like a dried-up pine cone. Then I realised it was breathing!
We had inadvertantly uncovered a hibernating hedgehog in the back garden. I had no idea the little chap was there. I'm rather glad we found him (or her) before we could start digging around, as he was so well-buried, serious injury could have occurred. I quickly inspected the little fellow to ensure I hadn't clipped him with the fork, then piled all the dead leaves back on, and labelled them for good measure.
I'll be keeping an eye on the little fellow, and rather hope that I might get a sighting when he finally decides to rejoin us.