Bobby and I have decided to return Mischa’s crate to the pet store.
On Monday morning, she went in the crate when we left for work and went back in after I came home to let her out during lunch. After work, Bobby and I got ready to go for a bike ride and put her in the crate as we left. We made it as far as the parking lot before her persistent howling brought us back inside. The rest of the night was subsequently spent sitting on the couch as she ran around the house.
On Tuesday, she was back in the crate when we left for work and after her lunchtime walk. Both times I could hear her howling as I left, but I tried to ignore it because dogs are supposed to get used to their crates and even learn to like them. That same night, our angry Russian neighbor confronted Bobby in the parking lot. “Your dog, it bark all day! All day, the barking! New dog bark too much! No good!”
Bobby relayed this story to me and concluded that we should leave her out of the crate on Wednesday to keep the neighbors from filing any official complaints. Absolutely not, I said, because I have no desire to leave an energetic young dog loose in my home for eight hours. By the time I got home at the end of the day, an entire wall could be missing.
On Wednesday morning, I left without crating her. I couldn’t do it; I knew she would balk at going in the crate, ignore the peanut butter-filled Kong toy, and howl all day. When I came home at lunch, I was shocked to find two happy dogs and an undisturbed house. Not a single thing was destroyed, eaten, peed on, pooped on, or even moved. Kobe still had all of his limbs and all of the furniture was still there. The second half of the day was equally successful.
Since clearly Mischa has successfully crate-trained us (Lesson: I Do Not Like The Crate), I see no point in keeping the damn thing. I would rather have the $88 back to spend on rawhide bones, dog kibble, and beer.
This will be the second time I have returned a crate in under a week because the dog would not tolerate confinement quietly. When Kobe was a puppy, I started by crating him at night, which lasted for exactly one hour, and then tried to crate him at least during the day while I was gone. His parrot-like squawking made him unpopular with roommates and neighbors alike, and in no time at all, Kobe was left loose in my room while I worked.
I like to believe these things happen because I am sensitive to the needs of my animals. They need to run the show, and I happily let them. This might also explain why I slept in an armchair last night while the dogs used the blankets and pillows on my side of the bed.