That headline might feel a bit hyperbolic to you. So let's back up a space.
We moved into this house in 2014. For six years I have lived with the supreme inconvenience of not having a back door.
I mean, this is a big dot deal. Frankly, I'm surprised it's not a bigger issue in the Democratic primary debates.
As you know, I have three dogs. Three, 60-pound dogs. I never intended to have three dogs. We moved here with one (Shelby). Then we adopted Elijah's dog (Bandit) when he came here, then moved back to Memphis, and couldn't take his boy.
[I was just about to tell you about Bandit's multiple heart defects when I realized that Shelby also has an interesting and heart-tugging medical history so tbh there are a lot of back stories here and I'm going to try to stay focused on the story at hand.]
Two large dogs actually seemed like a lot. But we were handling it. Until one day, I was driving to work, and I saw this poor little puppy running on the side of the rural highway. The thing about rural Louisiana is, there are a lot of loose dogs. It's a bit hard to differentiate between the "loose" dogs and the homeless ones. But this was clearly a puppy. So I pulled over.
[First mistake. I KNOW.]
My intention was to find the baby's owner. Or find it a new one.
My husband was traveling at the time and I texted him a photo. It was the same photo I planned to use on the FOUND! flyer. Then my husband texted back, "Oh, he looks like a keeper."
Reader, we kept him. And he's just the sweetest, most cuddly, most grateful of all my babies.
So I have three dogs.
When we bought this house, we only had Shelby. And the 3-foot picket fence around the front yard seemed sufficient. But then...Bandit...who's unfixed, because of his multiple heart defects. Now I have a sexually frustrated runner, who can easily jump that 3-foot picket fence.
The thing is, the house has a fenced-in back yard (YAY!), but, sadly, it does not have a "back door" (BOO!). It has a kitchen door that opens onto a deck on the side of the house and onto the driveway.
So now that I have three, massively spoiled (read: untrained) dogs, I literally have to put them on leashes and walk them to the fenced back yard. Which, as you can imagine, is a GIANT PAIN IN THE ASS. Because, just to be clear, if this weren't already inconvenient enough, my three, 60-pound dogs are individually - much less collectively! - stronger than me. So it's not like I can take all three of them out in one trip.
And clearly, they all need more than one trip per day. Clearly. And I do the majority of trips because my husband travels for work. I mean, the complications just keep adding up!
So for several years this has been my life. I've whined. I've complained. I've begged. And then everything changed.
My husband gave up his life of travel and took a local job. So I've been able to coerce him into at least two backyard dog trips a day. Ergo, he has begun to recognize the massive inconvenience that I have long suffered under.
So it's finally happening. We're getting a "back door."
I mean, it's not that simple.
We're getting a screened-in, side porch and a side patio, all behind the new fence line. But let's not get ahead of ourselves.
More before pictures:
We will also be addressing the fact that our house is raised and we have to prepare something that will keep the dogs from getting out by running under the house.
Day One: The side deck is removed.
A bunch of rotted wood is found behind it. Natch. This is how these things end up taking 10 weeks longer than planned.
Updates will be forthcoming.