A Boy And His Dog

So when we were gearing up to adopt a dog, I knew that I needed to repair or replace a fallen fence in the back of our property before any new canine family member could roam free.

And then, just as we were finalizing plans to bring home our beloved new puppy, Daisy, the folks who bought the house next door--and, it turns out, are nationally-recognized horse people in the realm of dressage, and have been busily converting the place to a full-tilt training facility that would accommodate 8-10 horses--tore out the fence that bordered our home and theirs.

They put in a gleaming white equestrian fence there (and elsewhere, tracing the perimeter of their property). The new fence looks gorgeous, but unlike its predecessor, is not designed to keep animals smaller than horses in, or out.

Which meant that the scope--and cost--of my own fence project had suddenly tripled, maybe quadrupled. As my wife Colleen has reminded each time I've whined, or cursed, about my immense irritation about this matter, the neighbors were perfectly entitled to remove the old fence.

It was on their property, it was theirs to replace.

Which is absolutely accurate, even if that observation fails to note that the other fence was there for decades--at one location, the even had a gate connecting that property with our property, a souvenir of the close friendship enjoyed by the family we bought our home from and the people who recently sold the adjacent house.

Anyway, as of today, our fencing project is complete, and now Daisy can be released from her leash, and run free.

And chase balls--as a dog, especially a Retriever, is meant to do. Daisy is thrilled by this development, as is our son, Mike.

Which has yielded classic photo opps like above: A boy and his dog.