Relative Something

Yesterday, while Cyndie and I were working in the front yard, she leashed Asher to a tree nearby. It just so happened to be in the spot where he had already been digging a few days before. I didn’t argue. We figured that he had already made a mess of things there, so there was nothing left worth protecting.

Cyndie was digging up ferns to transplant them and I was trimming a limb that was hanging over the roof. Asher was digging.

We started pulling up some of the flagstone slabs and stacking them on a pallet. We experimented with screening out river rock from dirt and debris.

It is all preliminary tinkering before fully diving in to seal the foundation and then re-grade the dirt before laying slabs back down and finishing with river rock.

As I was cutting off the branches from the limb I brought down, Cyndie hollered that Asher had reached a gas line.

“He what?!”

Oops. That’s not a root across that hole he dug.

I think he got a little carried away. We are going to need to find a better place for him to go wild with his digging. I’m thinking maybe the middle of the woods. We probably should have made that “call before you dig.”

I sure am glad he didn’t start gnawing on that copper tube like I’ve seen him do to roots that get in his way.

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