Fencing, A Photo Essay
Why are the dogs barking?
Hmm, no UPS truck in the driveway.
Why is the cat dashing about? No invaders. Still no delivery.
Time for the barn.
What is that brown shape? Why is Rodney in the side field? We don’t have a side field anymore.
[Since the only things between Rodney and the road were air and the good intentions of a Thoroughbred, I did not stop to take a photo.]
Grab grain. Quick march to barn to get halter. Okay, there’s the grey. Only one escapee. Here, horsie, horsie. Here, nice quiet horse, who is not about to run around like an idiot. Have some yummy grain. Halter on. Whew. Now let’s see how you got out.
Aha. Tree on the fence line.
Cheers for mesh fencing. Failure of one area does not mean failure of the entire line. One section down, one bent. the rest standing. Yay, fence! (In an ideal world, we would have a board across. Still pondering that side field.)
When my farmhand got home from his day job, we set to repairs by the light of the tractor.
The most important point. The deep hoofmarks. Rodney jumped! His first cross-country fence!
All fine. No lasting harm from the adventure, save for my shivers.