Baby’s First Thanksgiving

Chelsea, the new pup, gets road tested today, as we head north to visit Clyde’s family and east to visit my own.

Except for early mornings, when pent-up puppy power tends to make her a handful, she’s a very well-behaved animal. She’s a motivated learner, too: as of today, she knows and responds to commands to sit, enter her crate, and go outside … fairly remarkable for such a young dog.

Crate training, by the way, is a godsend. I learned about it from Housetraining for Dummies, which disspells the myths that crate training is the equivalent of cruel caging.

Until we learned about crate training, we exhausted ourselves keeping an eye on Chelsea 24/7. Our house is huge, and a determined pup can always find a spot out of eyeshot to gnaw shoes, nip at rug fringes, or mangle plants. Worse, when our schedules don’t allow for extended couch time, Chelsea, like a human child misses naps … which makes her one very fussy, very unhappy baby.

Now, our day starts with a romp outside, followed by an extensive workout with two favorite high-energy toys: Fishee-fish and Squeak Ball. By the time Clyde finishes the paper and has breakfast on the table, we’ve exhausted our early morning energy.

Rather than wait for breakfast to be interrupted with a housetraining accident or a confrontation with the cats (our previous routine), now Chelsea catches a snooze in the crate. (We carry it into the kitchen, so she can be “with” us, even when inside.) She whines for five minutes or so, just to test our resolve … but by the time I’m slapping jelly on my toast, she’s fast asleep.

The crate is essential, too, for car travel. I cringe when I see owners letting little dogs run loose in the car; in an accident, tiny critters would bounce around the interior like a ping-pong ball. Chelsea, though, will make the Thanksgiving pilgrimage in her crate in the back of the VUE. (I’m hoping, too, that the white noise of Interstate travel will help her fall fast asleep.)

We don’t abuse the crate. Chelsea sleeps in it, with the door open, reinforcing the fact that it belongs to her. She plays in it, with the door open, during the day. She loves to run inside when I give the command “Crate!” We never close the door without giving her a treat, and she never stays inside with the door closed for longer than 2 hours. (She’s just over two months old, after all, so she needs a bathroom break at least that often.)

Ah, the sanity. Best thirty bucks I’ve spent this month.