Oops!...I Did it Again

I'm a dog. Remember how I last posted about my escape from the kitchen?  Well, after Matt and Alicia upped the pressure on the gates I could no longer push my way through.  Luckily, I've figured out how to open the cat door and squeeze myself through...
 

My dramatic reenactment of the escape.

And it was a good thing I got through, because on the other side of the gate there was a canvas bag full of plastic baggies that I could tell needed to be dealt with.  They hadn't learned their lesson from when I chewed up their box and threw them all around the room.  So I had to do it. Again.

You mess with me, you end up like these bags.

All of this destruction makes a puppy tired.

All in a day's work, I guess!

Seriously, Don't Fence Me In

I'm a dog.  A couple of weeks ago, Matt and Alicia bought some pretty tall dog gates to keep me in the kitchen. I'm happy to report that though it took me a few weeks, I've escaped their evil clutches.

While Alicia was away during the day leading her Hunger Games camp (ask her more about this) and Matt went into the District for work, I was trapped in the kitchen.  I wasn't yet ready to escape, but I used this time to plot and plan.  It was after camp that Alicia made her fatal mistake: coming home to shower before going out to Target.

It was during this quick trip home that I was able to analyze the gates from both sides and finalize my plan.  Here's what Alicia saw when she arrived home...

I greeted her at the door.
This clued her in that something was amiss.

She quickly noticed I'd pushed out the bottom
of the pressurized gate from the doorway.

She then turned her attention to the living room.

I'd attacked the box of plastic bags they use to pick up my poop.
The shredded box lay around the room.  Bags strewn every which
way. I also took (but didn't chew) a pillow off the chair.

I also chewed the sticky papers off the lint roller and nibbled
on the plastic handle/holder. Note one of the many piles of
plastic baggies and shredded cardboard box.

Finally, I removed Alicia's backpack from the chair and also
took my little travel backpack (holds my orange ball, extra
baggies, house keys, etc. when I go for walks) off its hook.

And that's all she wrote.  I left the furniture alone.  I didn't bother eating the magazines on the coffee table.  The handwoven basket, woven placemats and remote controls were left in their places undisturbed.  This wasn't about destroying Matt and Alicia's things.  This was about escape...and exacting revenge on the box of poop baggies, which have always had it out for me.

Mission: Accomplished*.

*Matt has since extra-tightened the pressure on the gates, and I haven't been able to escape a second time. Yet.

Don't Fence Me In

I'm a dog.  I like to run free.  Tonight, for the first time, and just by happenstance, I met up with a bunch of my neighbor dogs (including my best friend Moxie) at the end of my early evening walk.  We tumbled around, pawing each other, jumping and biting faces, and just had a great time.  I wore myself out so much that I didn't even make it to my bed before collapsing in a heap.

They shaved my belly for surgery last week, so it's still growing back.

So far, I haven't met a dog (or human) that I don't like.  And everyone seems to like me too!  My only complaint is that while the other dogs were allowed off-leash, Alicia held tight to me the whole time.  I think she doesn't trust me yet.  And what have I done to deserve that? Nothing.

Except for maybe all of my hijinx over being confined at night and when they go out.

Speaking of which, Matt and Alicia upped the ante today.  They're going to take a break from crate training (yes!) because I am so afraid of the crate I won't look at it or go anywhere near it and if Matt or Alicia go towards it, I run and hide.  I had hoped maybe that would mean I'd get to roam free at night, pooping and peeing as I saw fit.  Instead, Alicia went out and purchased two 41" Extra-Tall Walk-Thru Pet Gates to barricade the kitchen.  These things are tall. Extra tall.

Think I could fit through the cat door?

Yeah, that's pretty tall.

We're talking taller than the kitchen counters tall.  If I can't figure out a way to push them down, I'm going to be sunk.  No more late-night partying for me.

I think I must've partied too hard last night.  Between pooping and peeing on the carpet and throwing up just as Alicia came downstairs, I was a mess.  Then we went outside and I threw up four more times.  It was not good. I spent the morning and into the early afternoon feeling very lethargic, refusing to eat or drink and just laying down on the grass went we went outside.

Sleeping puppy sleep and dreaming puppy dreams.

Matt and Alicia were worried and kept saying things like "poor puppy" and "think we could get her into the crate now?"  And don't think I didn't hear them giggling over my intense dreams that had my paws twitching and mouth huffing every once in a while!  Anyway, I think the sickness was due the distemper shot I got at the vet's yesterday.  Luckily, I seem to be fully recovered now.  I perked up around 2pm and so glad I was feeling better for my early evening romp with the neighbor dogs.  Next time, I hope Alicia let's me run free.

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!