The Backyard Had Some Issues
Buying this house has been a steady progression from holy shit, we own this to okay, now what the fuck do we want to do with it?
The backyard has been high on that list from day one.
It’s a good-sized yard. There’s room for gardens, a wooden catio, eventually a pool, dogs running around like lunatics—all kinds of plans.
There was just one problem.
The boundaries looked like three completely unrelated properties had gotten drunk and agreed to meet behind my house.
There were weathered fences belonging to the neighbors on either side. Across the back was the salmon-colored community wall, which I did not choose, did not love, and increasingly wanted removed from my field of vision.
And more importantly, the yard wasn’t properly enclosed for the dogs.
That shit needed fixing.
Enter Fence Outlet
Monday morning, Fence Outlet showed up.
And immediately blocked us in.
Which, frankly, delighted me.
You need the driveway? Take it. Block the cars. Block the street. Establish a small sovereign nation on my property if that’s what gets this fence built.
I also put out a cooler with water and Gatorade because this is Florida, it’s hot as balls, and nobody should be digging holes in my yard while dehydrated.
First There Were Holes
Then came the string lines.
Then little piles of dirt started appearing all over my yard.
And as everybody knows, tiny piles of dirt mean expensive things are happening.
At this point I was attempting to maintain a respectable distance because these gentlemen had an actual job to do and did not need the homeowner standing behind them asking approximately 147 questions.
Could I have gone outside, filmed everything and requested a step-by-step explanation?
Absolutely.
Would said explanation have required some Spanish assistance?
Probably.
Was Marcelo willing to facilitate my spontaneous fence-installation documentary?
No.
Marcelo would have said unreasonable shit like “get back to work.”
And Then We Had Drunken Poles
Suddenly there were white posts everywhere.
Initially, they were leaning around my yard like they’d all gone out drinking together the night before.
Then the crew started aligning everything, and the drunken poles became sober poles.
Then the sober poles started holding hands.
We had framework.
And this is where the whole thing started moving FAST.
Quality Control Arrived
Of course, I wasn’t the only one supervising.
Jasper eventually took his position at the window and assumed responsibility for quality control.
Unlike me, nobody told this motherfucker to get back to work.
He watched.
He judged.
He conducted performance reviews.
At one point one of the Fence Outlet guys even appeared in the reflection behind him, which makes Jasper’s expression approximately 400% funnier.
I Went Back to Work for Approximately Seven Minutes
Eventually I returned to my office because apparently employment continues even when someone is building an entire fence directly outside your window.
I wasn’t gone long.
I came back outside and—
BAM.
Fence.
Not framework.
Not poles.
Not something vaguely fence-shaped.
A FUCKING FENCE.
The salmon wall disappeared. The ugly neighboring fences disappeared. The whole yard suddenly looked cohesive, private and—perhaps most importantly—like it actually belonged to the house we bought.
These guys absolutely hauled ass.
And Yes, There’s a Gate
They finished the side and installed the gate, which officially transformed this from pretty new fence into something much more important:
a secure backyard.
That was the point.
The privacy is fantastic. Hiding the collection of random shit surrounding the property is fantastic. Having a clean blank backdrop for everything I eventually want to build out here is fantastic.
But I wanted the dogs to have a yard.
Now they do.
RELEASE THE KYLO
And then came the moment that made the entire thing worth it.
We let Kylo out.
No leash.
No hovering at the edge of the yard.
No barrier anxiety.
Just a dog, his people, a purple ball and a whole fenced backyard to lose his damn mind in.
And because Kylo understands the importance of marking historic occasions appropriately, he also peed in his brand-new yard on camera.
Naturally.
And because I put the video on YouTube, more than 100 people promptly watched my dog ceremonially christen his new kingdom.
I have no regrets.
Watch Kylo’s inaugural backyard rampage on YouTube
Shout-Out to Fence Outlet
Seriously, Fence Outlet deserves some love here.
They arrived in the morning when I had an open backyard and, over the course of one Florida day, took me through:
holes → drunken poles → sober poles → framework → panels → gate → DONE.
They worked their asses off in the heat, moved incredibly fast, cleaned up the visual disaster surrounding my yard, and by the end of the day Kylo was running around inside a secure space of his own.
They didn’t ask me to write this.
They didn’t give me anything.
Hell, they didn’t even leave me a card. I had to go find their website afterward. 😂
I’m shouting them out because I watched the whole damn thing happen and I’m impressed.
This Isn’t the Finished Backyard
And that’s probably my favorite part.
The fence is finished.
The backyard isn’t.
Now I have the blank canvas I wanted.
There are gardens to plan. A wooden catio to build. A pool to eventually figure out. Landscaping to unfuck. And there is now a beautiful giant white privacy fence just begging me to—
No.
I am not painting a gigantic Pennywise mural on it.
Probably.
It was about what happens inside the fence.
And judging by Kylo’s first afternoon?
I’d say we’re off to a pretty fucking good start. ❤️
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