Dog - Free to Good (Indestructible) Home?

I have measured my tether and there is just 0.02mm of it left. I am, likewise, down to the last, frayed bits of my rope and the proverbial camel's back is about to fracture through straw overload.
It's THAT DAMN DOG again!! Caty, the Dingo of Doom.


I keep saying she cannot cause any more mayhem and I keep being proved wrong. Well, this time I am convinced she has peaked.
Regular readers may recall that Nigella, the 30ft-high blue lawson fir in my back garden, has "got bent".
By that I mean that the tree has taken to leaning over at an angle which has almost prompted my next door neighbour into walking round in a hard hat, when he is not protectively throwing his arms around his beloved pigeon loft.
Well, yesterday I finally got round to calling in a tree surgeon to take a look at Nigella and see what could be done. It only turned out that part of the massive base of the tree had been turned into an underground adventure playground, with a network of tunnels and caves undermining the formerly well-anchored root system.
Guess who? None of my other dogs is a digger. Caty, on the other hand, loves digging, so much so that she has, in the past, dug up one of my beloved old dogs who died some years ago and was buried in the garden. Many is the time she has seemingly vanished after being let out and returned later, snout covered in mud. I just assumed she was truffling and bone burying at the far end of the garden so thought no more about it. It appears she has, in fact, been systematically trying to fell Nigella!!
Treeman has gone away to have a re-think about shoring up Nigella and filling in the Cheddar Gorge playground underneath her with something substantial - and Caty-proof.

That bloody dog! On Wednesday I noticed that a large catoneaster bush which used to be tethered to a wall in the garden had also started leaning over. I actually found Caty behind the bush, chewing happily on the rope which I had used to tie up the bush.
These days I look in deep sorrow at what was once my immaculate, manicured lawn.
Since the Devil dog's arrival it has been turned into a mini-Somme and my efforts to let the grass grow back by fencing off key areas have all ended in failure - Caty just leaps the chicken wire barricade in one jaunty bound.
To Grantham or not to Grantham, that is the question? The trouble with Caty is that she is one of the prettiest dogs alive and can be impossibly cute at times. She is also very loving. Oh, I don't know. Answers on a postcard please.