Don’t Box Me In #sol22

March 5, 2022

Against my better judgement, my husband adopted a second dog, a golden retrieve mix, Honey, last spring. At a little less than one year, much like a second child, she has turned out house, our routines, and the life of our sweet, old dog, Lily, upside down.

Bob had been working at home last spring so there wasn’t much need for crate training. Our older dog was adopted at seven months from a shelter. Being used to a crate since her puppyhood and having a gentle lab temperament, she quickly trained to the crate and enjoys a nap there still. We call it her “room”. Honey, however, was humming the tune, “Don’t Fence Me In”, since she dropped into our world. She would have nothing to do with the crate… at all.

First I put her ‘baby’ blanket in the crate. No thanks. About day 5, she ate it.

Though we knew from many former dogs that leaving her outside the crate was a mistake, we began to try her loose. The results were disastrous. She ate my slippers. She ate my bean boots. She ate our living room rug. She ate a fig tree. This was not working for me.

Then I bought a bear fuzzy stuffed toy that had a ‘heart’ insert that beats. She does love the toy, but it also didn’t get her to love her crate time.

I bought some pheromone diffuser to plug into the outlet next to the crate that claimed to calm her. I didn’t notice any change.

My husband’s sister claimed that she uses these rubber cups filled with pumpkin and treats frozen as a soother in the crate. I dutifully bought these funny receptacles and began to make these concoctions of banana and treats, pumpkin and treats, or various mixtures of puppy approved foods then frozen. Those were mildly successful.

My husband went back to a two week rotation of home/office. It turned to me to prep the dogs for their day at home. I developed a routine of toy/bone “choice”, a treat, and then into the crate after a trip outside. I was feeling proud of myself as she fit in the routine and went into the crate with no arguments at all.

Bob mentioned that he couldn’t get her to go in the crate when he left the house during his at-home weeks… I should have sensed trouble ahead.

Bob was at home for two weeks, then I had February vacation, so Honey spent three weeks outside the crate. On Monday, all of us went back to work which meant Honey would have to go to her crate. I made the ‘woobie’ on Sunday night filled with banana, her favorite. We “chose” some favorite toys for her crate. Bob bought her a new crate mat. All the pieces were in place.

Bob left for work. I took a shower and got dressed. I have a fairly clear routine in the morning, packing my school bag, lunch, coffee in my carafe. The last act is to take the dogs outside and then go to work. I was feeling confident. Everything in place I took the dogs outside. When we routined, Honey put on the brakes and refused to come in the house. Hmmm… I pulled her up the stairs and then unhooked her leash. I started up the stairs calling, “treats for dogs”. When I turned only Lily was behind me. For a moment I wondered if Honey had slipped outside but then I saw her face peeking up from the bottom of the basement stairs. “Come on, Honey”, I said. “Time for treats.” Her face disappeared into the dark of the basement. When I went down, my son’s bedroom door was ajar, but silence filled the air. I left her and went to work.

On and on this went all week. When Dylan got up to go to work he walked her to her crate. As the week went on, if I was quiet as I finished getting ready, she might sneak up the stairs only to retreat when we made eye contact.

This little observer! She knew the routine even though we hadn’t done it in weeks and she wasn’t having anything to do with it. Who knows what I’ll try next.