(insert squeak of happiness here), Oliver and I went out to buy him a
travel crate.
In picking one out, I asked him to climb into one to see how he fit.
He did. Then, I shut the door and he sat down and look out at me
through the crate door, "Um, hold on. Um, I'm not so sure about this
now" He lifted one of his paws and gently touched the crate door. Can
I come out now?
We bought that one, and I brought it home and assembled it with hopes
that I could leave it out and he would get used to it before we left.
I tossed a treat into it and he gingerly went in after it.
I was concerned. Maybe he's going to be totally freaked out about it
and I'm going to traumatize him with my bringing him home to Boston.
Playing on the computer later in the evening, I looked up. Where's my
dog? A second look had me no longer concerned about whether or not he
would adjust to his crate...
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