Mammal Mondays: Pup in a Box

Sweet Sherman is crate trained, meaning that he sleeps in his kennel when I’m at work, and when I need him out from underfoot so that he doesn’t attempt very bad things, like attempting to steal hot food from the top of the stove. Crate training is a pretty standard practice among dog owners right now, because it keeps the doggies safe and the furniture safer when the people are not around.

The original crate, when Sherm thought he could gooey-eye me into staying home from work. It was very nearly a successful effort.

Sometimes I feel like a bad mammal mother, since there are days when Sherman spends more hours in the kennel than I’d like, but he seems to like it in there. Additionally, my efforts to get the fuzzbucket to sleep on a dog bed at night instead of in his kennel have failed. I’ve made him a cosy bed to sleep on several times, and he’s cried and scratched at this kennel to be let in for the night. When I bring him home from daycare or the dog park, and he’s so tired his ridiculous tongue looks like a scarf, he puts himself into the kennel without prompting. He seems to feel a sense of ownership for the thing: I expect it’s because it smells of violent dog farts in there.

In his crate, Sherman relaxes and has a little time for himself.

I don't know how he sleeps like this. I get a kink in my neck just looking at him.

The Electrician and I get a kick out of how Sherman sleeps sometimes. My speckled pup twists himself into all sorts of funky arrangements. There have been times he’s startled me with his contortions and worried me that somehow Godzilla showed, up, broke him in several places, and left him in the kennel for me to find.

Are you afraid? I am too.

For now, since Sherm seems so happy in his kennel, I’m not too anxious to wean him off it. Eventually, I plan to get him sleeping on a soft bed in the corner rather than on the plastic kennel bottom. It will be better for his joints. He used to have a quilt to sleep on in the kennel, but he shredded it and I’m not dumb enough to give him another to use as a craft project. Also, taking the giant plastic box out of my bedroom will open up a considerable amount of floor space. It’s a dollhouse, remember? I need all the floorspace I can scrounge.

For now, the pup sleeps in a box. Now that it’s warmer, I’m sleeping with my window open so I don’t die of methane poisoning in the night. It’s working well for all involved.

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