Displaced Stay At Home Californian in rural N. Carolina

The Many Faces of Joy

The Many Faces of Joy

Wednesday, November 27, 2013


With everything that has been going on lately in our lives I have not had time to sit down and write about my life.  However as I sit here and hear the sounds of my mother-in-law baking up a storm in the kitchen in preparation for turkey day tomorrow I thought I would squeeze in a short story about our new surroundings.

We put the puppy's crate in our bedroom because it is big and because after nearly a year of living with us she still takes it upon herself to wake us up and by us I mean the whole family every morning by whining.  And she bases her morning wake up time on the weekday mornings when Gabe is up and doing his morning routine which is 5:15am.  So that means on the weekend no one gets to sleep in and now that she is bigger she packs a louder whine.  We have tried shaking the can with coins but if you shake that can at 5:15am on a Saturday you are likely to wake everyone else up in the house too.  So by putting her in our room we figured that she would know we were close by and not whine so loudly or so early.

And then I crated her on the second day in a new house and left the house but only slid the lock closed on the crate at the top of the crate, leaving the bottom latch open.  She somehow figured out that if she scratched at the crate enough she could squeeze her head out of the bottom but once she got her head out she had to get the rest of her body because the crate door trapping her head could have suffocated or asphyxiated her.  Now remember I am just recreating this in my mind much like a forensics person would because I wasn't here to witness in person what actually went down.

You can imagine my surprise when I got home and she was out of her crate and running around.  You can imagine even more surprise when I walked into my new bedroom of 2 days and saw 2 large holes chewed into the carpet where she had dug her paws in and pulled herself to freedom to escape being trapped between the crate door and the crate.  And you can imagine the anger and the spike in blood pressure when I saw the mess my new carpet was in, chewed up, blood, holes, even writing about it makes me mad all over again.

All I can say is I'm glad it was the dog that did it.  And I'm glad that we had a nice throw rug that fits right in that spot.  And that dog is back out in the living room where it can whine as much as it likes - I'm not making that mistake again. 

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