Friday, October 30, 2009

On the virtues of crate training...

“The $100 avoidance chamber” is what my parents call my home, sweet home within a home, to which I retreat when I wish. Only when I wish.

Here’s when I like to go in the crate:
1.    Say it’s raining, and they want to take me outside. I zoom into the crate, and that is that! Can’t catch me, I’m the stubborn-recalcitrant-obdurate man!

2.    Say it’s a great day, but I just don’t feel like going for a walk. The car is so much more fun! I’ll just pout in my crate, with the occasional whimper for effect, until someone gives in.

3.    I save the very back of the crate when it’s time for any poking or prodding with medicines or ear cleaning or whatever. It’s a great place to hide.

4.    Of course, I also like to head to the crate when it’s thundering and lightning outside, or when it’s the Fourth of July, or anywhere around there, when my neighbors mindlessly shoot off scary sounding stuff. Or any Saturday in the summer, when they rev, rev, rev, their motorcycles. Is that really necessary?

The idea was, mom and dad tell me, that I would use the crate as a cozy spot to retreat from the world.  I do, so what’s the problem? My home is my castle, moat and all.