Friday, May 14, 2010

The Great Escape Artist

Erin's dogs are great at escaping.  She has tags on them with her phone number, and gets calls on a regular basis.  We have tried many things.  Here we have another thing to try.  A dog pen inside her fenced in backyard.  Erin and I  dug up pavers in our backyard we were no longer using and took them to her house.   We laid them out around the perimeter of where the fencing and posts would go in her backyard.  The dogs are clueless--they think we're just having fun--Tee-hee!
We have some posts, fencing, gate, hardware, post hole digger, rock bar, shovel, and a cart.  Here we are, (meaning hubby)--digging for the first gate post.


Now the second post.

Erin helped her daddy with this one as well.  I mostly watched and bossed, or "supervised"  as my father-in-law would say.  Actually, hubby and I usually are a pretty good team, and work well together.  What I don't know about, he usually does.  Erin fits right in too--I've always enjoyed working with her.


Both posts set in quickcrete.


Now for the gate hangers--my technical name for the gadget.


Marking where the second one goes.


Drilling is daddy's job; I don't enjoy it at all.  We got the gate hung and the latch on, then we pounded the fence posts into the ground.  We wrapped the fencing around, and hooked the fencing in place, and lastly we used super staples that you pound in with a hammer to attach the fencing to the wooden posts.  I held the huge staples in place with needle nose pliers while he hammered them in place.  We were working on the very last one on the bottom of the post, I was all bent over (I forgot I had placed my cup of water on top of the post) and Guy told me what a good helper I was while he was banging away then----boom!!!  The cup landed on my head and splashed all over my back.
Erin has my sense of humor; she snickered and laughed, and couldn't stop--Thanks Erin!!  I would have done the same thing.  I always laugh at the wrong time.  I got that from my dad--my mom used to say:  "he laughs at things that aren't funny!"  Several of my grandchildren have been blessed with the same problem--It's my gift to them.  I love it.  What's bad is when you laugh in church at the wrong time.  The problem is you can't quit laughing--it's terrible.


All penned in---Wahoo!  Job done! 
Dogs:  "Okay--you can let us out now."
I'm sure there are more escapes on the way, cause I've already had to go find them.  We will keep trying, and someday we will learn how to  pen 'em.  I feel a song commin' on....I wish Erin and I could sing it for you.  It's one of our favorites. 

The Pig Song :

We was drivin' along,  doin' what would please us. .
We was on our way,  to do some gigs,
hit the brakes too late,  run over some pigs.

Chorus:
Pigs, pigs,  I got nothin' again 'em,
But if you'ins have any pigs,
You ourta learn how to pen 'em,
Buy you a  watch dog,
And name that dog Rover.
To keep your pigs off the road,
So they don't get run overr---rrr.


Mac is giving me the evil eye--I think he's figured out what is going on.

4 comments:

  1. I'm still laughing about your accidental "baptismal". :) I think it was your reaction to getting soaked that was so funny, "That's what I get for being a good helper." -with a slightly annoyed voice. Ha ha!

    ReplyDelete
  2. It's funny that you guys put Sassy in a new pen and when she runs away, where does she go? The the Federal PENitentiary. I think she was trying to tell you guys something. That little dogs got a sense of humor!
    ☺ Celeste

    ReplyDelete
  3. She went to the PENitentiary because she knew she was in big trouble and probably thought she would be safer there!

    Oh, and the second line in the Pig Song is "Talkin' how the wise men found baby Jesus". I guess it's be a while since we've sang it.

    ReplyDelete
  4. My mind is old and rusty (been soaked too many times).
    Getting her out of the Federal Pen was no easy task. But her snuggling me when I carried her to the car made it worth while. She was really glad to see me. She's a sweet doggie.

    ReplyDelete