REBUILDING

on

This is to share what I’m doing, not to feel let down if I don’t like or comment for a couple days — I MUST get this work done, stay offline, get muddy, sweaty, screwing the last pickets up, twisting wire fence, cleaning up the debris, tending to my veggie garden, and all the assundry of chores to do the rest of this week. Duty calls.

Almooost every day I’m outdoors. Today the weather will be warm, the sun’s been up for an hour, I’m waiting for my coffee to brew after letting my dogs out. Now here’s the thing. I’m rebuilding the fence perimeter around my back yard. For a week I’ve had to guide Rocky into the kennel with a leash attached to his big sleek neck, otherwise the pup in him wants to run and play… He’s getting used to the routine, it’s me who doesn’t like the lead. I am used to simply opening the door, they go find the spot, then they whine to get back in for a morning bite of kibble. As I peacefully drink my coffee, listening to the chirping morning birds.

 

He’ll be one year old in two weeks, now that Rocky is full grown, he’s the size of a miniature horse! Sasha is a smallish dog and can squeeze through any hole her nose fits into, like a little mouse. She sneaked outside the fence one day whilst I was weeding and had turned my back. Rocky started barking the alarm and jumping around. I looked in the direction he was barking, Sasha had knocked over a loose fence picket and was in the front yard. No fence. Rocky saw my little baby was in danger and had sounded the alarm. I scooped her up, releasing her back into his kennel, immediately renailing the loose picket. I was pleasantly surprised at Rocky. He’s become aware of some rules but doesn’t know to look both ways before crossing a highway any more than a deer or a small child does. He just wants to run and play. That’s how dogs get killed.And grand kids.

This week I posted a paragraph on Facebook how he’s grown from a gangly teenage pup to a stout guard dog. Needless to say, however proud I am of his protective nature, I want him to be safely fenced in the back yard.

Well now I know how Rocky will protect me. Definitely a guard dog. 64 ‪#‎s‬ of beast.
Neighbors let their Husky out to go pee at the same time as I let Rocky out, on a rope in front yard (back yard is a mud pit now). I stepped in the house so he’d do business. He barked once then his ALARM bark. I came outside he lands on the Husky’s back and its owner man (neighbor) called her. She got away from Rocky and he started barking again hackles on his back like a mountain! He ran up the steps to me, put himself against me.The guy apologized took his dog home Rocky kept growling warnings at the dog, her man dragged the Husky home. My dog pushed me into the screen door. Wow so cool . Rocky won over a big Husky.

Living on a very busy street only 100 yards from the highway, close to downtown Independence, I must have a fence to contain my dogs safely or a semi-truck would smush them the minute they’d wander into the street.

So anywho, I’ll finish building my fence today, after lifting  two 30 pound, eight foot long posts about, sawing and carrying them into the fittings, dragging bags of rock, carrying 60 pounds of bulky 8 foot long fence panels to install them on top of the wall I finished building two years ago. It’s all part of the process of rebuilding my strength after over two years of surgeries. And it’s all part of me getting my life back after breast cancer, conditioning my body to have the stamina to bow hunt again, to haul a deer by myself again, to carry those forty pound bags of sand and concrete without relying on my husband’s help, as much as he’s glad to.

He helped fit the last panel atop the wall just to claim he did it for me.You perhaps wonder why isn’t he, being the man, building the fence? Because it was my brainchild, my project, and you gals know that any time a man ‘helps’ a woman, the dude suddenly gets bossy — and that ego, puffs out his chest, believing he’s got rooster genes in him just for flexing his rarely used biceps. My hubby is strong, can carry double his weight. But I only asked for help to hoist one fence panel bein’s I don’t have ten foot long arms to steady it alone. Hmmm, was common sense then, not ego to ask for help. I used his body. <chuckle here> For once he didn’t boss me but complimented my work. I’m okay with that. He then left to work on his own project of fixing the Chevy turn signal wiring (his kind of work).

As the saying goes, ‘we all wear many hats’. My home is a construction zone.

I feel a major accomplishment. I love the work, the being outdoors doing the work, and the finish. Most of all I love that rebuilding the fence gives my dogs and grand kids a safe place to play. That’s immediate. Then I will love how the workout rebuilt my strength enabling me to hunt on my own once again. That’s my goal. Breast cancer merely slowed me down for awhile. Because I love that timber. And my doggies.

Rady to rock ‘n roll! <SMILE>

so I’ll be back … with after photos  … and as we say in Missouri, see y’all…

©

Advertisements