Of Dogs and Fences

[stoutfellow]

I have a... well, to call it a recurring dream might be excessive; the details vary greatly each time. Call it a recurring theme. I am outside my home; there are quite a few people around. Sometimes some of them are relatives, but rarely all. There is something wrong with the backyard fence. It's bigger and more extensive than its waking-world equivalent, and parts of it are damaged - broken, fallen down, or missing altogether. I am scrambling around, trying to jury-rig repairs, but the equipment and tools are inadequate and insufficient.

I am worried that the dogs will get out, though none of them show any inclination to bolt. The dogs are numerous; my waking self doesn't recognize most of them, but all of them are mine. This morning's version featured a lanky bloodhound. I've never lived with a bloodhound; I'm not sure I've even seen one in the flesh.

I have no idea what, if anything, this means. (House-anxiety is not uncommon in my dreams; strangers doing things which affect the outside of my house, up to and including blocking the front door, frequently appear.)