<note: I never thought I’d write a post in my dog’s voice. It just had to be done.>
My Evil Killer Crate OF DOOM- by Zap, age almost 2.
Yesterday started like a normal day. I woke up at 7:00, with the alarm, and barked in mom and dad’s ears. It was time to get up, and they weren’t getting the point. There were things to be sniffed outside, breakfast to be eaten, and balls to be thrown to fetch. Stupid humans. I tried to kill and maul my brothers instead. Got kicked off the bed a few times, and growled at by Valen. Bastards, all of them.
Mom had to go to an “in terr view”(whatever that is) in the morning so she gave us dogs a stuffed Kong each, n’ crated us up. I’m not too keen on the cratin’ thing, but the boys are. Boys. Sheesh. :rolleyes:
So that went ok. Mom came home for lunch and we played. Bouncy IKEA balls make life much better, n’ my cratin’ of the morning was quickly forgotten. Got snuggles. Tried to kill Spanky. Failed.
And then, we dogs napped. That was pretty cool. I dreamed about chasing bunnies. Hopefully someday I’ll catch one, just like when I caught that squirrel last year. And maybe, just maybe, this time I’ll know what to DO once I catch one. Last time I did, the squirrel screamed, and then I screamed and let it go n’ it climbed o’er my back and up the tree. Mom says I had a “OH MY GOD, WHAT DO I DO NOW?!” look on my face when I caught it. I think I had a “LOOK WHAT I CAUGHT! I’M A FIERCE AND BRAVE AUSSIE” look. So nyeh.
Aaaanyway. Mom got ready to leave again late in the afternoon. She said something about going out with daddy for dinner. WAIT A COTTON PICKIN’ SECOND! CRATED? AGAIN? I THINK NOT, EVIL MATRIARCH!
She jailed me again. I barked and hollered and howled and SCREAMED this time… and she told me to quiet down, eat my treats, and that she’d be back soon. DAMN HER! DAMN HER AND HER EVIL WAYS! I knew she hadn’t left the house yet, so I continued screamin’ and stuff. I’manna show her who’s the alpha bitch in this household!
Then, my crate taunted me. I SWEAR. It told me to go ahead and try to get out.
I tried to get out - after all, my broffer, Zip, escapes from HIS crate by pushin’ out the crate pan. This makes his mom wonder about him, cuz there’s no way a big boned 50 pound aussie should be able to get his blocky head out that way… but he DOES. So, I figured it ran in the family. So I tried. I rocked my crate. HA! They say you can’t do such things… well, to heck with THEY! I did! OOOOOH DID I EVER.
BANG! CRASH!
Holy. Shit. And. Milkbones. Giving. You. The. Runs.
I tipped my crate.
It balanced up against dad’s computer desk.
Holy. Shit. If I hadn’t just gone outside before mom locked me up, I’d’a peed myself. I’m not ashamed to admit it. THAT DURN CRATE DURN WELL NEAR KILLED ME!
Mom ran into the room, her coat half on. I just… stood there… SHAKING. She said I was shakin’ so hard that the crate was rattling. She let me out and I RAN, MAN, I RAN.
She calmed the boys down n’ gave them more chewies, apparently. But I was NOWHERE TO BE FOUND. There’s NO WAY I was goin’ back IN THERE.
NO WAY IN HELL, I TELL YOU.
So I hid in the closet downstairs. The one mom keeps coats n’ dog stuff in. I climbed on TOP of my food bin and sat, shaking. I was NOT gonna go back in that crate. I was just gonna stay in the closet, FAR AWAY from the evil killer crate of DOOM.
Mom finally found me, n’ lured me upstairs with some dehydrated liver. Nuh-uh. I was just not gonna stay home. NO WAY JOSE. I ran back downstairs and hid again.
Turned out to be an okay night, though, cuz I got to go out with mom and dad for dinner. I behaved REALLY WELL at the restaurant. ANYTHING was better than being locked up in the CRATE OF DOOM again…
When I came home, I wouldn’t go into that room until mom took my crate down and hid it under the bed. This morning, I barked at the side of the bed, just to make sure the crate knew I wasn’t gonna let it win.
Freakin’ crate.
Zap.