Crate Training 101

Or maybe I should say Re-Crate Training.  Crate Re-Training.  Whatever.  When we brought Alice home, on the first night, she went straight into her kennel and slept all night just fine.  Good Dog!  We adopted the smartest dog in town!  Well done, us!  The next morning, when I left the house, she went right into her crate and laid there quietly while I left.  When I returned, she was laying quietly in her crate and stayed that way until I let her out.  Wow.  That was easy.  We are the best dog owners. Ever.

Fast forward one week and when I put her in the crate to leave the house, she cried and cried and yelled and cried some more.  When I got home she cried until I let her out.  And when she exited the crate she was followed but the shreds of whatever I had put in the crate to make her comfy.   She has shredded two pillows, chewed more holes in her fleece blanket than a block of Swiss cheese and when I threw in a grey t-shirt, it came out as grey cotton dust.  That was actually impressive.  Nights were still going alright so I was sure the daytime struggles were just part of her adjustment process.  Right?  Right.

Fast forward another week and she's doing so great that we let her sleep on a pillow over night, next to Abbey.  She's a rock star.  Laid down and slept all night.  Until two nights ago when she woke up at some point during the night and pooped in the bathroom.  Half points for being in the bathroom; full points if she had pooped in the toilet.  Next night, more pooping.  Well, that's just fantastic.  It's the Box of Shame for you.  Drag, push, slam, lock and good night, Irene.  And for 43 minutes, she whined and cried and howled and yipped and made these funny little howlly-banshee sounds and oh, sweet jesus, shut up!  Abbey left her pillow and went to the other side of the bed because 'bitch is loud'.  So I ignored her and ignored her some more and then talked soothingly to her and reassured her that she's okay and John came in and yelled "What in the hell is going on in here?!?"  and I replied, "That's not helping!!"  So I pulled her crate right over to the side of my bed and laid down with my arm hanging off the bed so my fingers would fit through the bars and she could lick my fingers.  She finally quieted down but I was really uncomfortable (and if this goes on much longer I'm going to end up with the first documented case of adult-onset sclerosis)  not to mention, mildly freaked out because it's all started to feel like that scary story from Girl Scout camp.

So the next night, I took the dogs out to potty then we all went straight into the bedroom.  Abbey laid down on her pillow.  I stood at the sink and brushed my teeth.  Alice stood behind me and peed on the  floor.  BOX OF SHAME!