The Crate

Visions of sugar plums dancing in my head are a dream of the past as the battle of woman versus dog manifests in the crate arena. Our test of tenaciousness as both weary from the sparring impresses respect on both sides of the the wire door.

I pat the chenille pad in the bottom of the crate attempting to entice her into the cozy and safe den; she humours me. With all four extra large feet in she assesses quickly if I'm going to join her in this long anticipated slumber; it ain't happening. The challenge begins...

At first she is slithering. Sliding her body nose first into any possible crevice or crack from which she can see freedom. As I increase in adeptness to her ingenuity, she matches me with physical strength that, at first, sends me reeling in surprise. My hands firmly, but gently hold her and guide her to the plushness of Alex and her puppy nest.

Slowly, she tires and resigns to them. She wines to a whimper. Her breathing heavy as she regains herself. Her eyes close. Her breathing becomes deep as I stroke her smoothness and feel her warmth. I back out of the doorway and watch for any sign of her awakening. Nothing.

I close the door without a sound. Slowly and very deliberately, I grasp the locking mechanism drawing their catch deep enough to slide the door into place. I try so very hard to not make a sound in release... I haven't mastered that yet. Her head snaps up, her eyes wide, she looks at me and the whine starts ever so slowly matching the depth of her breath. I dare not move.

She closes her eyes once more. I sit there, barely breathing. Whine to a wimper once more... I start to get up. Instantly, she's on her feet. I lean forward to the door, softly cooing, mom to babe, sharing kisses through the wires. I say goodnight.

As we stare each other down for what seems like eternity, her immature howl only misses the lower octaves at 8 weeks, I marvel at her strength, both in fortitude and body. I resign and walk towards my bedroom while the neighbours at least 5 doors down can marvel at the sound of the hound, too. This is the third time tonight and somewhere in the recesses of my mind I know... this too shall pass.