I got permission to share

Monday, July 27, 2026

The Backyard group was scheduled to meet today in Jean’s backyard. It was terribly humid (the windows were even covered with condensation this morning) and temperature of 90 was expected at 10am, so we changed the gathering to the cafe at Byerly’s. That encouraged a lot of people to come, so we had a very large group. We all went around the circle to tell what was new. One story that happened Saturday just captured me.

Laura babysat her sister’s dog for a week. The dog is a rescue and unfortunately probably had trauma in his past. He prefers to be alone and hides in Laura’s basement or under the deck, sometimes for many hours. Sister returned home late Friday and called Saturday morning to say she was coming to get the dog. Laura said to wait, because he was under the deck and was not coming out when called. She would call back when Dog came out. Sister thought Dog would come to her voice, so she came.

Dog did not come.

Sister dropped treats between the slats like a breadcrumb trail. Dog happily followed the trail under the deck, but didn’t follow them out. Sister said they needed chicken. Laura got a rotisserie chicken and suggested sitting quietly near the edge of the deck. Surely Dog would smell and come out. Sister took pieces and dropped them between the boards. Dog ate them under the deck. Dog got full. (Word is Kowalski’s rotisserie chicken is the absolute best, but twice as much as Costco.)

The next idea was to cut a hole in the deck.

Yep. You read that right. Cut. A hole. In. The. Deck. You know it happened because of the potd, but I am still boggled. Sister refused advice to just wait and insisted a hole be cut. She (and husband) said they would pay for everything. Laura said the cutting would surely frighten Dog. Sister was sure it was the only way.

(At this point in the original telling we had not seen the picture and did not know what was going to happen, but my mouth was agape and I was SURE no deck cutting would happen.)

A carpenter was called. On a Saturday morning. “Come now for emergency deck cutting.” He suggested they just wait. Sister said no. She would pay for it.

The carpenter came. He cut a hole. Dog scurried closer to the house, afraid of the noise and mess.

Somehow, with the help of Laura’s son, Dog was retrieved from under the deck. (I think the clamor of the group had a bit of a skip-to-the-end influence at this point, or maybe my hanging-open mouth caused temporary deafness, but I have no specifics on how it happened)

The carpenter’s emergency visit was $200. He wasn’t interested in staying right then, on Saturday morning, to fix the hole, but will come back this week – for another $200. Sister was upset it was so expensive, but is still going to pay.

I am still boggled by the whole thing.