A friend of ours recently moved to Durham, and has been storing stuff in our spare room while her living situation gets all settled. During the moving process, we had to prop open the front door. So Bean had to be either locked in the back yard or baby-gated in the bathroom. I thought she'd prefer the bathroom, since she could at least see what was going on.
The second I put her in there (with food, water, treats, a bed, and chews.....all for a 15 minute "lock-down"), she started crying like we were torturing her. And she bent her head down (so as to best convey her broken spirit) and peered through the "bars" at us when we passed by.
We definitely have to keep Miss Bean out of trouble, because I don't think she'd last an hour in real doggie jail.
2 comments:
Hey Bean,
You look reeeallys sad! Try barkin' Natural Blues by Moby. That might helps. Oh, those meanies!
Wuufs!
Freda Ƨ
Aw, poor Bean. I know how you feel. When my parents moved, they locked me up in a crate. I whined a lot, too.
-China
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