No Fences Make Embarrassing Neighbors

We are replacing the fence in our backyard.  This requires several steps.  We had to take down the existing fence (because even though we are already paying thousands of dollars for a new fence, Chris refuses to pay an extra $200 for them to remove the old fence… Boys…).  We did that part this weekend.  Chris had a friend come over to help him and Bean, while Gracie and I stood on the sidelines and cheered.

(Side note:  Gracie has strep throat AGAIN.  Third time in two months.  We have an appointment next week to talk about taking her tonsils out.  Oy.)

The fence guys don’t come to install the new fence until Tuesday, which means we are without a fence for a few days.  That’s not so terrible, except that we have two dogs who are used to being able to roam the backyard at their free will.  Right now, we have to walk them every time they go out, and Big Molly refuses to go to the bathroom when she is on a leash.  She’s much too modest for that.  She gives us this look like, “You want me to do this WHILE YOU’RE STANDING TWO FEET AWAY?  You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Not that I blame her.  This whole fence/no privacy situation is impacting us all.

This morning, I got up at 6:00 to let the dogs out.  Only, at the last minute I remembered there was no fence, so I ran back upstairs to grab my robe.  I was wearing an actual nightgown.  You know, the ones that are too short to really cover much of anything?  Yeah, one of those.  So, I throw on my short robe (which I haven’t worn since the hospital when Gracie was born) and I am running around trying to find someone’s shoes to throw on, all while frantically whisper/yelling at Daisy, “Wait for mommy, Daisy!  Don’t have an accident!  Mommy’s coming!  Don’t pee!”  Daisy is still a puppy and, while she is house-trained, her bladder doesn’t have much patience first thing in the morning.

So, I’m running around, whisper/yelling at the dog, whisper/yelling for shoes, trying not to wake the kids, and trying to get the dogs leashed up before Daisy has an accident.

Finally, I get them both on leashes and out into the backyard we go.

I’m standing there, holding my robe closed, hoping none of my neighbors are up at 6:00am to see me in a way too short nightgown, walking my two dogs on leashes in my own backyard, when all of a sudden, our ducks return.

Do you remember these ducks from last spring?  They really love our yard.  And our pool.  And they aren’t afraid of us at all – or our dogs.  So, as I’m standing there, clutching my robe that has no belt anymore because a certain child in our house used it to tie her baby stroller to her bicycle, these two ducks land in our pool.

And my dogs LOSE IT.

They start barking and jumping and pulling and going completely insane in the backyard.

I’m pulling back on their leashes, yelling, “BE QUIET!  NO!  GET DOWN!  SIT!  STAY!  ROLL OVER!  TREAT!  TREAT!  TREAT!” Anything to get their attention from the two ducks that are swimming around in the pool, not ten feet away.  Just chilling there.  Quacking.

And my robe is now wide open, my nightgown is all twisted up around me, my boobs are hanging out, and I’m stepping in dog poop in the yard.

I finally managed to wrangle the dogs back into the house, all the while, those damn ducks are just swimming around my pool.  Quacking like life is grand.

I really need that new fence to go up ASAP.