Master Robert had strong views against ever crating me. With his last two dogs Suzy and Ginny in the 1960’s and early 1970’s crates were never used. Mistress Fotini and logic prevailed however and a crate was decided upon. A crate provides a safe nook for a West Highland Terrier. A place to call their own. A refuge. A big house all alone as a young pup can be intimidating. So a crate was purchased and I was “eased into it gradually”. I started with a half hour then gradually worked it up so I could happily be crated. There were toys, my blanket and when The Stephen Family was out leaving me alone in my crate there was classical music on the radio. I loved the opera! Saturday from the Met was my favourite.
My crating career was relatively short only a year and a half with the door closed until I felt comfortable roaming about the house alone. It was never that long behind closed doors as after the house was empty on the week-days there was always the dog walker from 11-2 then Master Andrew was home at 4. You know even when the crate was not necessary from a pup perspective I used it as my home for several years because I wanted to.
So for me and hopefully for your pup the crate is not San Quentin. Consider it at worst a minimum-security facility or perhaps what it really is a home for an unsure pup.
If The Stephen Family gets another dog, and they absolutely must, my crate is waiting for the new family member.
A Bird's Eye View of Fashion, Food, Travel, Culture, Beverage and Curiosity 