As you hard-core readers may recall (click here if you don't), Ace -- and perhaps too his master -- was less than thrilled six months ago when we returned to the city of Baltimore from a hiatus in Montana.

We love Baltimore, but Montana took our breath away. (Don't hiatus for that.)

We moved into a new (for us) rowhouse, with a decent sized (for a rowhouse) yard -- one that sported actual growth, unlike our first, cement, backyard in Baltimore.

Despite having a little room to romp in Baltimore, Ace -- who'd grown accustomed to the big skies of Montana, to life on a ranch, to frolicking in rivers and galloping like a horse down dusty trails -- would have little to do with it.

Instead, back in Baltimore, he mostly just sat on what there was of a patio and stared out at the overgrown yard.

It wasn't the most alluring of spaces -- weed-filled, rife with broken glass and beer cans, and with a fence made of lattice, strung to posts. It didn't attract much wildlife, unless you count rats, who could be seen nightly. Pretty much the only times Ace would venture into the yard would be to chase one of those, or relieve himself.

Once winter rolled by, there still wasn't much green coming through, and between the cracked cement patio and assorted junk behind the house, once I started going outside myself, I could see Ace's point. The space wasn't exactly beckoning me to break out the grill, much less have anybody over for a visit

What Ace's yard needed was a good pimping -- and, as you can see from the before and after pictures above, we gave it one.

The idea was to make the yard more Ace-friendly, more people-friendly, and more wildlife-friendly (except for rats), and I can proudly say (while admitting I didn't do most of the work) I think we achieved that.

How? Check back tomorrow for part 2.