Before I entered a world cluttered with borrowed post-hole diggers, levels, squares, electric drills and circular saws. Before I took up residence in the fastener aisle of hardware and building supply stores studying bolts, screws and latches. Before I found myself lying face down on the ground, my left arm and shoulder deep in a post hole trying to cut away roots from lilac bushes and the birch. Before every muscle in my wuss body ached. I call it My Twice-Built Fence.
Most parts are that - built once, taken apart and built again.
This makes my dachshund, Roxie, also known as Little Big Mouth, bark. She is on a chain in the unfenced part of the yard. Bubba, the yellow lab across the alley, joins in with bass woofs. Nugget, the Cairn terrier mimics a soprano. The cardinal sings on.