Thursday, June 9, 2011

You Can't Stop Me; You Can Only Hope to Contain Me!

I'm a dog.  I like my bed*.

I don't like my crate.

I put up with the crate the first night.  But last night, I plotted my escape.  After Matt forced me inside (there was no way I was going in there willingly!) and gave me my Kong, I proceeded to cry.  I wish someone had been filming it, because my performance deserves as Oscar.  I cried so loud and so long that Matt and Alicia had no choice but to take me out of the crate and barricade me in the kitchen for the night, or suffer the wrath of neighbors with crying babies and howling dogs.

Once in the kitchen I snuggled into my bed and went to sleep like a good girl.  When Alicia came down this morning I was waiting for her, tail wagging and ready to go outside for my morning walk.  When Matt and Alicia left for work, instead of forcing me into the crate, they put me back in the kitchen...just as I had hoped! My plan was working.

You see, last night, I was too tired to do anything about being trapped in the kitchen with baby gates blocking my every chance at freedom.  But this morning, with a good night's sleep, morning walk, some kibble, and a few laps of water, I was ready to plan my escape.  When Alicia got home from the middle school graduation at around 11:30, I was there to greet her at the door. Boy was she surprised to see me!  The gates were still intact, but there I was, on the outside.  She couldn't believe it and even called Matt to see if maybe he accidentally put the gates up without putting me in the kitchen.  No such luck.

Determined to get to the bottom of things, she opened one of the baby gates and called me into the kitchen.  She had food, so it was hard to resist.  Before I knew it, she'd trapped me inside again, and then climbed over the baby gate.  Fooled!  Then she waited on the couch in the living room and watched me cry and beg for her to let me out.  But she wasn't budging.  There was no way I was going to stay cooped up in the kitchen while she sat on the couch with her hands (that should have been giving me pets and scratches) on her hips.  So, I did what any self-respecting dog would do...

I scaled the gate.  Yup.  I climbed it, and toppled myself over.  Sure, I landed on the ground with a big thud, but then I was free! Free!  FREE!

But maybe I shouldn't have done that, because I overheard them talking about picking up a large crate for me tonight.  Oops.

*A gift from my dogmother, Aunt Amanda!

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