Crate Expectations

Note: This post could also be titled, Separation Anxiety In Your Young Greyhound. Or, Maybe It’s Not A Good Idea To Crate Your Dog Only Two Hours After You’ve Left Them In A Completely New Environment. Or, Live and Learn.

Poor Stella. Poor friends who so generously said Yes to keeping her for the weekend while we visited Sin City (me for business, P for tag-along purposes.) I thought I thought of everything (another good post title, actually.) Food, chewies, stuffies, phone numbers, detailed instructions, pillow, portable crate. Ah yes, the portable crate.

The last times we’ve left Stella she stayed with Greyhoundies who have, in addition to two hounds, a huge warehouse which is home to Barkstix, a business that makes yummy all natural dog treats. In other words, dog heaven. And then we left her with friends who were remodeling their place. Doggie daycare, never a problem. Smooth sailing. Never any separation anxiety. Separation affinity, in fact.

Well, I guess I was wrong. Turns out the key to making these things work out has been that Stella was not left alone. Stella’s not really attached to me or P. in as much as she just needs some company. Something three dimensional with a pulse will work.

So our friends who said they had to go to a play that evening that I left her, the ones I assured could go to that play and just crate her, did like I said and put her in. Not so fast. Within about a minute, after walking down the stairs, they heard barking, whining, blood curdling screaming going on. And then, she appeared, escaped from the travel crate and likely ready to destroy everything of value in the house if they were to leave her unattended.

Needless to say, they never got to the play.

Fortunately, I was able to get doggie daycare to take her so my friends could get on with their lives. But things continued on a downward spiral over there too as she could not shake the separation anxiety (“SA” as those far too in the know call it.) She gracefully jumped high fences, whined, barked and simply would not crate for love nor money. Basically, she was a huge pain in the butt–you know, the kid that the teachers call you in about–the kid at private school they have to put up with because the parents are paying the tuition.

Fast forward and she’s back at home not having really skipped a beat. As the Dog Whisperer likes to say, “Dog live in dee moment.” Owner, however, live in the dee past. And I’ve become way too well versed on SA but maybe, hopefully, better equipped to diminish the chances of putting Stella and friends in this situation again.