Hairy Houdini

Jason and I have shared plenty of Miri stories, stats, and shots... but we haven't said much on our blog about our first baby, Prescott. Well, have I got a story for you!

Let's back up to March 2007 when we first adopted our lovable little neurotic furball. I'm sure you all remember the difficulties we had getting Prescott acclimated to his new life with us. Our little guy's separation anxiety almost cost him a home with us. That little 27-lb dog managed to escape from a metal crate like this:

And he did a bunch of damage. Ergh. We thought, "Okay, he doesn't like crates." We decided to try keeping him contained to our hallway using a baby gate like this:

The little crazy managed to gnaw and then knock those down. More damage and mess in our apartment while we were at work. We tried tougher metal baby gates that were screwed into the wall:

No dice. He got through those too... we believe by slamming his 27 lbs into it repeatedly until the door opened and let him through. More damage. At that point, we were ready to give up the dog. We loved him to pieces but thought we might be in over our heads with our little headcase. Fortunately, we gave him one last chance by getting in touch w/ Curtis Scott, dog trainer extraordinaire. To this day, Jason and I can't say enough good things about Curtis. He's the only reason Prescott is still a Bashaw. Curtis helped us with Prescott's separation anxiety and recommended a crate like this:

For the last 4 years, that has worked well. No escapes! Yeah, he sometimes goes crazy and drools a lot in there. And we've noticed that over the years, he's gradually chewed up the bottom of the crate near the door lock. But it's held up and all's been well. Until Monday afternoon. Jason was at work, and Miri and I went on an outing with my Mom. Prescott was left home alone in his crate, per the usual. Everything was just like always. Except that when I got home, he greeted me at the door. The little stinker had finally managed to chew his way out of the crate, after 4 years. Here's a picture of his handiwork (or should I say, his mouth-i-work):

The good news was that the only damage Pres did while we were gone was to put 2 little toothmarks in the mini-blinds in our bedroom. FYI, that type of damage is pretty textbook for animals with separation anxiety... they go at the entrances/exits in an attempt to get to where their person/people are at. Anyway, my overall summary of the damage is that it is annoying... we'll need to replace the $10 blind before we move out. But not too bad at all! In a strange way, I was kind of proud of him for "only" doing that and not destroying any of our furniture or other belongings. Had we had the blind raised or had he not been able to climb up there from a storage bin we had under the window, I don't think he would have done any damage. This is HUGE improvement from the days of yore! Still, Jason & I decided we didn't trust him enough to start phasing out the crate altogether at this point, especially while we're renting... we'd like our security deposit returned. So when Miri and I went out on Thursday, we had several measures in place to keep Prescott contained in his faulty crate (until we could get a new one). Here's what we did. First, Jason had designed a complex rubber band system to keep the door shut. So once I had him in there, I put on the rubber bands:

Next, I pushed the entire crate, with Pres in it, so that the busted door side was flat against the kitchen wall, just in case he was able to break the rubber bands:

Foolsafe, right????

Alas, it was to no avail. Prescott greeted us happily at the door again upon our arrival home. Here's how I found his crate:

The entire crate was moved 90 degrees, so the door was no longer flush to the wall. The rubber band system was still perfectly in place (I accidentally left them off for this picture re-enactment, oops). He must have slammed on the door enough to stretch the bands without breaking them and then

S-Q-U-E-E-Z-E-D

out the partial opening. It just goes to show that where there's a will... there's a way. At least, there is if you are Prescott Bruiser Bashaw, aka "Hairy Houdini."

Probably needless to say, Jason has made a trip to Petco and bought Prescott a new secure crate. We should be good for the next 4 years! I'm hoping that by the time he chews a hole in that one, we won't need to replace it again. Curtis says most dogs with separation anxiety EVENTUALLY "outgrow" the need for crating. There is hope!

Even if he's eternally crazy, we love our Houdini and can't imagine the Bashaw family without him.