My sister, Joan, and I lived near a powerline for several years. The right-of-way funneled all the neighborhood deer through our gardens. We decided to put a stop to their foraging.

At the time, we had three dogs: Cis, a feisty Cairn Terrier who had been abandoned on our road; Sport, a sweet Bench-leg Beagle who showed up on our property; and Casey, a red Australian Heeler who we rescued from the pound. We placed a comfortably outfitted doghouse near the garden, and Cis became our first “deer slayer.” We put her on a tie outside and went into the house for the evening.

A short time later, we heard whining at the front door—Cis had slipped her collar. We tightened her collar and set her out again. Whining at the front door—Cis sans collar. We finally determined that she could slip her collar no matter what!

Sport became our next guinea pig. No whining at the door! We crept outside to the garden to check things out and heard snoring. Sport. Doghouse much too comfortable. Another failure!

Finally, Casey was tried out. Bark, bark bark—all night long. No sleep. No good.

Whine, Snore, Bark? Bah, humbug!

We bought an eight-foot-high deer fence.

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