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.

The dog behind the gate

Yes, we all know I bite and I've done it before, but I had my good reasons. Once I got adopted into my current forever family, I became a free dog. Nothing is locked behind closed doors and I'm free to walk anywhere inside the house at any given time.

When visitors come over, I feel how my owners grow wary. They don't trust me much and are afraid I will attack someone. I try not to do anything bad, but it just irks me to see people grabbing my toys, my bed or my chewing sticks without even asking me. What I hate the most is when they all try to hug me and pick me up like if I was a baby or a stuffed animal.

I'm a dog people! I'm moody at times, and when you do something I don't like…I might bite!

My owners have a gate for me. It has some frosted plexiglass that doesn't allow me to see through it, but the gate is only used on the master bedroom when babies come to the house and are sleeping inside the room.

I don't mind babies. I just smelled them a little and then go away. When older kids come it is a different story. Older kids get all crazy playing all over the first floor of the house, and my masters try to keep me contained on the second floor.

I used to be afraid of stairs and wooden railings so whenever the gate was placed at the top of the stairs I would cry and whine about being left alone on the second floor.

This past weekend we had guests. I was so excited to be around everyone (protecting my toys) that I overcame my fear of stairs and wooden railings.

While contained upstairs, I wiggled my somewhat overweight body between the wooden railings, jumped 5 stair steps, landed safely on the stairs' landing and came rushing to the first floor to be around the guests.

My owners were astonished. How would they keep me up on the second floor now? Locking me in a room was out of the question. That would mean I would bark unstoppable and would probably scratch the door. Being locked away could get me so upset that I could forget my good manners and training classes, returning me to my wild days.

The solution was to extend the gate along the wooden railing, blocking my escape route and use anything to block the top of the stairs. My owners used an ottoman. That kept me up there for a good 10 minutes. I accidentally stood on my hind legs and pushed the ottoman down the stairs.

Oh no!! Now what have I done? Once the ottoman stopped rolling down the stairs I realized that what stopped it from tumbling even further, was one of its round wooden legs. It jabbed into the drywall.

Somehow my owners were able to block the bottom of the stairs with the frosted gate. They continued entertaining the guests. I was left alone at the stairs' landing, crying, until the guest went home.

Later that afternoon, my masters came home with a brand new gate. Now there is nothing I can do to escape this new jail gate.