Letter 54 - Caspian & The Chicken Farmer!

Dec 30, 2024

Hello Bregdan Woman,

You have Ginny today…

You learned about Caspian a week or so ago – when he Conquered the Stairs.

His lessons for me didn’t stop with the stairs…

I hated to do it, but I was determined to keep them safe.

I had moved to a new home with a huge chicken farm across the road – not a place for dogs to run free. Our neighbor had a big rifle to protect his chickens and I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to use it. My heart tugged at the sadness in their eyes when I pulled the gate shut on their newly constructed pen one morning, but I was confident I’d made the right decision.

My two dogs definitely disagreed. Caspian, my chocolate lab, and Corrin, my huge black lab, stared at me through the slats of the pen as I walked away. As far as dog pens go, it was deluxe. A large 20 X 20 area under the overhang of my barn had been enclosed with 1 X 6 slats. I had scattered a thick layer of fresh smelling straw on the dirt floor so they would be comfortable. Fresh food and water awaited.

Their faces told me they were clearly unimpressed. I, however, was convinced I was being a good “dog mom”.

Hmmm…. Caspian was about to teach me a lesson I’ve never forgotten.

When I drove up to the house that evening after a long day at work, Caspian greeted me at the car, his tail wagging wildly. I stared at him in astonishment. “How did you get out of that pen?” He kept wagging his tail, dancing in joy to be free. “And where is your brother?”

Wild barking drew me back to the pen. Corrin was exactly where I had left him. I turned back to stare at Caspian again. How had he gotten out?

Before I go any further into this story there’s something you need to know about my chocolate lab. He only had 3 legs – losing one to being hit by a car the year before (after he conquered the stairs). It didn’t slow him down, but there were certainly limitations.

I thought…

Determined to solve the mystery, I put Caspian back in the pen. I hid around the corner of the barn, making sure he couldn’t see me peering in his direction.

He waited only a few minutes before he calmly walked to the side of the pen and climbed…

Yes, my 3-legged dog climbed a 6-foot fence!

He somehow managed to use his one good front leg to hook the boards, allowing his powerful hind legs to propel him forward. He reached the top, seemed to smile in satisfaction, then launched himself to the ground. He landed with a thud, his one good leg not strong enough to catch him, jumped up, shook himself, and bounded around the corner to find me.

Corrin was barking wildly, infuriated to be left behind once again. He wanted out, but not badly enough to climb a 6-foot fence.

I stared at Caspian’s look of smug satisfaction. I was impressed with what he’d done but I still had that chicken farmer with the rifle just across the road. My dog would have to stay in his pen.

With that decision… the battle was on.

To stop him from climbing out, I took 1 X 12 boards and nailed them around the top of the pen, creating a ledge that would stop him from climbing out.

He met me at my car the next night.

When I went to explore how it was possible, I realized he had stood on his hind legs, ate the board, then climbed out.

I changed tactics…

I replaced the 1 X 12, then dug a trench around the inside perimeter of the fence so he couldn’t reach the board to chew it.

Caspian changed his tactics…

Instead of climbing up and over, he used his new knowledge of wood chewing to simply eat a hole in the side of the fence, large enough for him, but too small for his brother, then climbed out.

I gritted my teeth and fought on…

Next, I replaced the chewed board and lined the entire pen with heavy gage chain link fence.

Caspian ripped the fence away, wiggled underneath, ate the fence and climbed out.

Every time he would meet me at my car door, wiggling with delight that I was home, and he was free.

But that chicken farmer with the rifle…

I put the chain link back in place, then secured it with 2-inch staples. I stepped back and knew I had finally won my battle. Not even Caspian could pull them out.

Wrong.

When Caspian met me at the car that night, however, I could tell his fight for freedom had cost him. Blood streamed down his chest from where he had ripped several teeth from his mouth in his fight to conquer the chain-link fence, and his face was cut, yet his wiggling body still expressed joy.

As I stared at my determined dog, my dismay and need to win turned to respect, admiration, and an acceptance of defeat. After all, he was at my car every night. He had never once taken off for the chicken farm.

Caspian simply refused to have his freedom taken away.

As the warm spring air washed over us, I cleaned him up, then sat and quietly stroked his head. And I pondered what I had just learned. I had been fighting a problem with my business and had finally decided there was no answer.

Caspian taught me that wasn’t true.

The lesson I learned that night is that there is always a way if I’m willing to keep trying, and willing to pay the price to accomplish my goal. If I wanted something badly enough there was a way to make it happen.

Caspian’s persistence paid off. The next morning, I took the door off the pen. Both my dogs stayed on my farm. They never bothered the chickens and I never had to worry about the chicken farmer’s rifle.

And I learned a lesson I’ve never forgotten.

What do you want to accomplish? Are you willing to do whatever is necessary? Are you willing to pay the price?

Only you know the answers. As you conquer your own limitations today, be encouraged that if you want something badly enough you CAN make it happen.