CHARLESTON, W.Va. -- Some apologies are in order.

The house next door to us is for sale.

While ours looks like we're content providers for Better Junkyards & Gardens.

The article about us would be titled, "Effects of having survived another winter with an escape-artist dog."

Our daughter's dog, Chewie, appears determined to leave us. I'm not sure what causes his extreme discontent. While indoors, he seems happy as he struts cockily from room to room, making certain no cat gets too comfy and no dog receives something not first offered to him.

Somewhere under that sweet, shaggy exterior beats the heart of a dog that dreams bigger dreams. A dog not limited by chain link and the junk piled against it by weak-minded humans attempting to keep him confined.

Yes. I admit. We hold Chewie back. We've been open with him about our reasons, explaining it's our duty to keep him grounded and that we do so out of love (and a desire not to be sued).

In Chewie's mind, though, he must believe we do so out of fear he'll succeed and leave us behind once he manages to breach our sloppily reinforced borders.

Is it fame he seeks? Stardom? A reattachment of those dangly appendages so cruelly removed when he was but a wee pup?

Regardless of Chewie's true motive, his dogged determination once again forced us to spend the winter months plugging holes under the fence with whatever material we found handy while flailing about in the dark and the cold. And now that it's warm -- and the house next door is for sale -- we must disassemble our miss-mashed mess in favor of a more attractive, yet equally effectual, solution.

Unfortunately, our homeowners insurance has this little codicil against spikes, electricity and razor wire, and our vet isn't willing to go along with removing his legs. Not even just the front two. So we're forced with having to skip those obvious ways and look for a more creative solution.

For a while, we considered invisible fencing. Then discovered that along with the many other secrets Chewie keeps, one apparently involves masochism.

So clever has he become with his digging that one time, right after making his escape, we observed him backtracking a few steps to tamp down the leaves, thus hiding his hole.

Short of digging a trench around the fence base and filling it with a combination of concrete and land mines, I'm not sure we'll ever manage to effectively keep him confined for more than a few weeks at a time. And I have little doubt that once we manage to secure the base of the fence, he'll simply start stacking lawn furniture and go over the top.

Much as I love him, I must admit there are times I've considered attaching some pre-addressed postcards to Chewie's collar, giving him $20 and a firm handshake, and setting him free.

But now that it's spring, I find myself recharged and renewed, filled with optimism and ready to tackle the challenge of reinforcing our fence in a manner not offensive to our potential new neighbors.

I hope they like dogs.

Reach Karin Fuller at karinful...@gmail.com.