An anecdote; unrelated, an image
See the subject line.
The anecdote:
So yesterday, as Master Danger and I were spending the afternoon at home, we had a thunderstorm blow in about 2:45. (This is standard subtropical summertime stuff.) However, I also had a 3:15 pm meeting at work -- just a twenty-minute in-and-out deal, and I only live seven minutes from work anyway. Thunder happened. Master Danger went to his safe space behind my desk.
Now Master Danger is crate-trained. When I adopted him, the foster-parent told me that he really needed the security and routine of a crate, and in the year and a half since then, all signs have pointed to that need. I never leave the house (other than the occasional ten-minute spate of yardwork) without crating him. He loves his crate.
But as the thunder kept happening and as the minutes ticked inexorably toward the time I had to leave, Master Danger made himself one with the wall. He was too far behind the desk for me to carry or push him out (even excepting the Danger), and no treat or blandishment worked. He was hiding, and by heavens nothing was going to get him out.
I had to leave. And so, for the first time in a year and a half, Master Danger was left un-crated.
Upon my return twenty-seven minutes later, in a day now free from thunder, I was met at the front door by a crying Corgi hurling himself against my legs. WHERE WERE YOU WHAT HAPPENED WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME WHAT IS THIS HELL.
Master Danger is not crate-trained, I feel. Master Danger is crate-DEPENDENT.
An image, unrelated:
It has been well-documented that I am a fool for a man in a nice white button-down shirt. Imagine then my unrestrained appreciation for our new Doctor Peter Capaldi, photographed in the act of buttoning. O the unfastened French cuffs. O the focus and style of him.
I am possibly man-in-white-shirt-dependent.
May you have anecdotes, images, and connections to cheer your day. :)
The anecdote:
So yesterday, as Master Danger and I were spending the afternoon at home, we had a thunderstorm blow in about 2:45. (This is standard subtropical summertime stuff.) However, I also had a 3:15 pm meeting at work -- just a twenty-minute in-and-out deal, and I only live seven minutes from work anyway. Thunder happened. Master Danger went to his safe space behind my desk.
Now Master Danger is crate-trained. When I adopted him, the foster-parent told me that he really needed the security and routine of a crate, and in the year and a half since then, all signs have pointed to that need. I never leave the house (other than the occasional ten-minute spate of yardwork) without crating him. He loves his crate.
But as the thunder kept happening and as the minutes ticked inexorably toward the time I had to leave, Master Danger made himself one with the wall. He was too far behind the desk for me to carry or push him out (even excepting the Danger), and no treat or blandishment worked. He was hiding, and by heavens nothing was going to get him out.
I had to leave. And so, for the first time in a year and a half, Master Danger was left un-crated.
Upon my return twenty-seven minutes later, in a day now free from thunder, I was met at the front door by a crying Corgi hurling himself against my legs. WHERE WERE YOU WHAT HAPPENED WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME WHAT IS THIS HELL.
Master Danger is not crate-trained, I feel. Master Danger is crate-DEPENDENT.
An image, unrelated:
It has been well-documented that I am a fool for a man in a nice white button-down shirt. Imagine then my unrestrained appreciation for our new Doctor Peter Capaldi, photographed in the act of buttoning. O the unfastened French cuffs. O the focus and style of him.
I am possibly man-in-white-shirt-dependent.
May you have anecdotes, images, and connections to cheer your day. :)