No Dog Crate for Me

Ever since I was adopted by mommy and master, I've enjoyed my freedom at home. I know my host mom at the rescue shelter used to leave me inside a dog crate when she went to work, but those days in captivity are history for me.

Somehow this weekend mommy thought it would be a good idea to try dog crating me again. I don't know who gave her that BAD idea.

She bought this portable dog crate to see if I would go in there. My bed and some toys were placed inside, but I knew better to put one paw inside that box.

I walked around it, sniffed it, stretched my neck to try to get my toys out of it. I took some out, but there were some in the back I couldn't reach.

Mommy placed a trail of treats into the crate and I carefully went inside, eating the treats quickly just to come back out. The only way mommy got me to stay inside the crate/tent was by throwing the entire bag of treats in there. Once I saw that, I knew I had to go in an protect the bag. As long as the treat bag was in there so was I, but I was not planning on being trapped into staying inside this tent.

After a few hours of just watching me come in an out of the tent, mommy knew this is not what she wanted for me. Why would I be confined to this plastic house, when I've walked free in the house for 2 years. I don't destroy anything in the house and I don't have accidents. I do understand that I'm on guard when visitors come over. I pace around them a lot, but that's why we have that dreadful gate they put me behind.

I was glad to see mommy pack up the dog crate to return it to the store. My days of freedom are not over. I'll continue to stroll around the house at my own discretion.

I promise to stand down my guard when we have company. I will try.