Milo vs. the Pet Gate

We knew when we adopted Milo that we would need to confine him somehow when we weren’t home... puppies in the process of housebreaking should not, in general, be given free range of the house.  Milo, having a questionable background before being rescued and having lived in a kennel during his fostering, was not at all accustomed to doing his business outside.  He would have to be taught.

Crating was never really an option; we feel, and many experts agree, that more than five or six hours in a crate is excessive even for an adult dog, and on a good day, Milo would be home for about 7 or 8 hours.  Hiring a midday dog walker isn’t economically feasible for our family, and my husband objected to installing a doggy door to allow free access to the yard, so we settled on the notion of gating him into the kitchen, which could be made puppy-proof and had an easy-clean floor.

At first, we used two panels from my son's long-stored playpen, which stretched across the opening and effectively blocked the way out.  It took Milo less than a day to figure out how to push it out of the way, and nothing we did to secure it could deter him.  Every day we would come home and find him, wagging and at liberty in the house, doing what puppies do - leaving a wake of puddles and shredded paper and cardboard behind him, our shoes scattered down the hall and across the living room.

And so we purchased and installed a very sturdy-looking pet gate across the entrance to the kitchen.  It’s 31” tall and Tom was quite proud of getting it installed, just as I was quite proud of finding the thing.  Locating a gate to span the 54” of our kitchen entryway was a job in itself... it took me close to three weeks to find a suitable gate, with one misfire that didn't fit regardless of what the measurements on the box said.

Tonight, I decided to do a “soft intro” for Milo; I would, I thought, gate him in while eating dinner, and feed Ariel on the other side instead of closing her into the bedroom as we have been doing (because Milo has a habit of inhaling his food and then chasing Ariel away and eating hers, too).  Ariel, however, wanted none of this plan; she eyed Milo and the closed gate nervously and promptly trotted to the bedroom and waited there.  Maybe she was trying to tell me something.

By the time I’d walked down the hall, set down the bowl, closed the bedroom door, and gotten halfway back, Milo was frantically barking and whining.  He was also launching himself at the top of the gate, claws scrabbling.  As I stood and watched, he fell three times in rapid succession- then managed to get both front paws over the top edge, and pulled himself up and over.

Wondering if this was a one-time anomaly, I popped him back in and stood back to watch.

This time, he didn’t bother with barking and whining.  He took a running start, hooked his front and rear claws into the gate, and scrambled over.  He looked up at me, tail wagging, proud of his accomplishment.

So much for gating him into the kitchen.

On the plus side, I think I have a potential agility dog on my hands.