The Terrible-Awful

So, I guess it's time to confess.  In my head, I understand the sense and value of crating but my heart still rebels against it just a little.  Ray doesn't hate his crate, but he doesn't love it, either.  His man cave has been under the kitchen table for so long that we ended up putting a comforter down under there for him to lay on since he likes it so well.

It's a nice chill spot for him where he can still see most of the goings on in the house.  While Asia was home on maternity leave, I would still crate Ray when I left and when  Ray's girlfriend  dog walker came at noon she would let him out for his bio-break then re-crate him.  We eventually worked to where he was only crated half of that time; either I would leave him out (in the two gated rooms) and she would re-crate or vice versa until finally the crate was gone and Ray was able to nap on the sofa or what have you.  He did great and we were feeling pretty pleased because he seemed much happier and was being pretty responsible for a puppy not yet a year old. 

When Asia returned to work, things still seemed to go well, until I discovered the support slats on two of  the chairs above were whittled down to toothpicks.  Uh-oh.  All for giving the benefit of a doubt and second chances, etc.we still did not crate Ray day or night.  The picture above is the family room where Ray spends most of his time, but you may have seen pictures more recently of this room that looked like this:

A lot of throw rugs.

Yeah, that's an army of throw rugs across the floor.  I got a call from Becca, who walks Ray every day and her voice sounded worried so I immediately started fretting.  She said Ray tore up the carpet and she would send me a picture so in the meantime, we decided to have her get a gate out of the garage and leave him in the kitchen.  I had to go to a meeting so I didn't receive the picture right away butI figured,  "How bad could it be?"  This bad.



Right down to the foundation.

Knowing Kevin wouldn't be home until about 4:30, I figured I could call him and give him a head's up, but when he answered he sounded so stunned that I knew he was home early.  He was in such shock that, although I don't mean to make light of it, it almost became a non-event.  The immediate problem at this point was that Ray was already used to not being in the crate, so we couldn't just toss him back in right way.  We decided that at night he could sleep in the man cave.  That way he wouldn't be able to get to the carpet while we slept.  And we could have time to get him back in the crate without it seeming like a punishment.  Until he acquired a taste for drywall.

Ray is still allowed to chill in his man-cave under the table, believe it or not, and he is actually pretty good about going to his crate.  He knows the command, "go to your mat" which includes the mat in his crate, so he knows he'll get a good treat if he goes so we've kind of struck a truce between Dr. Destructo and the ever maturing puppy.  I know I pushed the process too quickly and although he shows absolutely no stress about being in his crate, I have to wonder if it was just rambunctious puppy play or a bit of separation anxiety that caused the terrible-awful.  I really lean towards the former.  When he is crated, he naps, gnaws his antler and listens to tunes.  I usually only latch the top latch and once we left both latches undone.  We found him sitting in his crate looking totally freaked because the latches were undone! 

So, like any kid who is given too much freedom too soon, Ray has had some house rules laid on him and as for me?  I got new carpet. 

So did your pooch ever go through a Dr. Destructo phase?