Who Says Crates Are Bad?

I love my crate!

Which is good, because last night my mom got exasperated with me. I was curled up at the foot of her bed as usual and I was getting restless. So I was licking my paws and other parts of my anatomy that a lady should never discuss on her blog.

“That’s enough!” my mom shrieked as I woke her up from a terrific dream she was having. “It’s the crate for you!”

Uh oh. What did I do? Since when is scratching an itch considered a major crime?

But Mom tossed in my kong toy with a nice big chunk of peanut butter. Ah….who cares about the bed anyway? I can protect the household while I slurp.

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