The garden flooding we experienced last month weakened a couple of posts in our rear fence, so one dry morning I set out to put a couple of fresh, concreted posts in there to firm everything up.
The thinking behind this was of course to prevent any loss of Beagle containment, so it’s ironic that this maintenance work gave rise to the very thing it was intended to avoid. I’m getting ahead of myself though.. I’d better start at the beginning.
I gave our team of four a good long early walk, fed them, and then put Monkey and Poppy into their crates. Beanie and Biggles remained uncrated as they go straight into deep nap mode after a walk, especially if the donut beds in the lounge have been stacked to clear some floor space.
Heaven is a double-decker donut with Biggles in the middle of it
So with two furries in their crates and two in donut comas, I figured I had a couple of hours of unhindered working time. I got off to a good start, cutting the new posts to the correct length and digging two good deep holes, but soon I felt the need for coffee break. You know how it is with coffee breaks – they always go on longer than intended – and when I resumed work it was time for the youngsters to be released back into the garden. Still, the hardest parts of the job had already been done and what remained was straightforward enough: pop the new posts into the holes, screw them roughly into position against the fence, then pour in water and some quick setting concrete stuff and clean up. Half an hour or so and everything should be done, right? No, wrong, because it never goes like that.
I called in Susan to help with the first bit. While I ‘went round to the other side of the fence to brace the first of the new posts in position (being careful to close the gate after me), Susan prepared to drive a screw in from the front to hold it. As soon as I got into position we hit a problem: the screwdriver bit was chewing up the screw. I went back round and swapped the screw out for a new one. We were ready to go again, but now the screw I’d grabbed required a different bit from the one currently fixed into the driver. Back round I went. At some point in the proceedings I failed to notice that I’d left the gate open. Monkey however did notice, and wandered through.
At the back of our garden there’s a narrow bank that separates us from a fast-flowing burn, while on either side are neighbouring gardens, separated from us by fences that don’t fully reach down to the undulating bank. Obviously my initial concern was that he might fall into the burn and be carried away downstream, so I went after him with some haste, and with even more haste, he dodged under the neighbour’s fence and into their garden.
Much of the time Monkey is suprisingly well behaved, but right at this moment he wasn’t the least bit interested in my attempts to recall him, so I just had to chase him down. As a humie I didn’t have the option of squeezing under the fence, so I had to run up and out of our garden and into the neighbour’s garden via their gate. As I finally closed in on him, he took off into the the next adjoining property, beyond which lay the outside world: countryside punctuated by busy roads. I hopped over the next (thankfully low) fence in pursuit, but this garden was somewhat overgrown with lots of brambles and other spiky foliage. I knew that if he took flight again I wouldn’t be able to stop him from escaping into world beyond. It was time for a cooler, more laid back approach that wouldn’t spook him. You know what they say: slowly, slowly catch Monkey. I don’t know about actual monkeys, but when it comes to Beagles called Monkey, that old adage seems to be bang on the money.
I calmed down and held off stalking him for a moment, and in return he stopped trying to evade me. He slowly ambled back towards our garden, and after a moment I began to follow, setting my pace so that little by little I was catching up to him. When I was close enough I made a grab for his shoulders. I missed those, but my hands landed on his big rear end and found a solid grip. One scoop action later he was in my arms, and seemingly happy enough that his latest unsanctioned adventure had come to an end. His little sister gave him a bit of a hard time on his return, but at least she didn’t hump him.
Despite a heavy downpour (not forecast) I finished the fence repair work and there were no further escapes, but I need to remember that even a secure fence is only secure if I remember to keep the blummin’ gate closed.