Houdini Dog

The latest wreckage. Not near as significant as the armchair, and not as messy as the birdseed, but not my favorite sight to come home to. My roommate swears he locked Blarney in his crate before leaving for work, but he sure wasn't in his crate when I got home. In fact, of the last three days he's been put in either of two crates, he's escaped three times. He learned to flip the wire crate over and squeeze through the bars somehow, and he's been chewing at the plastic crate and somehow got the door out of its frame.

I'm at a loss as to how to protect my possessions from being chewed to death.

What I really don't understand is why I still love this dog, and find it impossible to be very angry with him. He may be adept at breaking out of crates, but he's also managed to break into my heart, and doesn't plan to leave any time soon.