Sitting at the kitchen table today, pretending to get some work done, I looked out the window to see Oliver playing with another dog. In our fenced yard. For a while I thought my depth perception was just bad and they were playing on opposite sides of the far fence. But then Oliver clearly jumped on the other dog, and it rolled over onto its back.
So the astute reader should be asking right now, “How did the other dog get into the yard? Isn’t it fenced?” Yes. It is fenced. And the gate is always closed, since Oliver does not know how to “come” or “not run away” or “find his own way home.” There is a section of the back fence that has a big hole in it, and someone (before we bought the house) “patched” it with a piece of plywood and some other garbage. There didn’t seem to be space enough for a dog to fit through which is why we haven’t worried about it. But then today there was a dog in our yard, one who did not enter through the house or the gate.
The Little Red Haired Girl heard me arguing with myself about whether the dog was inside or outside the yard (and for a little while whether it was a cat or a dog). She laughed at me for a while, until I confirmed that it was definitely in. At which point she ran into the room, donned her duck boots, went outside, picked up the other dog, and dumped it over the side of the fence. If Oliver was sad about losing his new friend he made no sign.
Anyway, the fence has to be fixed. The Little Red Haired Girl threw some rocks in the hole, but we need to do something more permanent and less ugly. Add “new fence” to the home improvements list.