The One Where Hurley Hulked His Crate

A few months ago and tired of seeing Hurley scrunch down to get in his kennel, I purchased a new big boy wire kennel.  Would you like to stand up and move around, Hurley Man?  Why, your mama's got you covered!

Except that Hurley, for the most part, has completely shunned his new kennel.

Every morning, he squeezes his frame into a kennel, while perfectly sized for a 60lb dog, is way too small for my big boy.  And every morning, I face a dilemma:  make Hurley get in the bigger crate so that he's comfy but risk his acceptance of the crate in general, or leave him be and let him be cramped all day.

I always opt for the latter.  I'm providing him with a properly sized kennel and it's his choice.  A little cramped dog for now is better than having a dog who hates kennels. 

Until one morning earlier this week.  Hurley had been experimenting with hanging out in his big boy kennel in the evenings when we're watching TV and decided he was ready for an all-day trial of said big boy kennel.

I was more than happy to oblige.  Finally!  Now I don't have to feel guilty about him being cramped in the small kennel.

I got home that evening and found the Hubster painstakingly zip tie'ing virtually every seam of that wire kennel.  During the day, the Hurley Monster had decided he just couldn't stand the big boy kennel anymore and HULK'd his way out.  There is no other explanation for how he managed to bend almost every side, break most points where the wire was soldered, and squeeze his 80lb frame out in the crack he formed between the door and the bottom.  It was obviously a feat requiring super human strength!

It may have been my fault for not kenneling the girls.  Apparently, Hurley (as I had suspected, which is why heretofore, the girls were always kenneled when he was) cannot abide by the injustice of his sisters having free rein of ONE room in the entire house while he was stuck in his big boy kennel in the same room.  And so he HULK'd and he HULK'd and he muscled his way free. 

We can only assume that he was pumped up about his newfound freedom and could not contain himself because the Hubster came home to one HULK'd kennel, one proud as proud can be Hurley Monster, a den that was in complete frolicking-puppy-had-his-fun disarray, and Sadie & Maggie cowering in the corner, washing their hands of any hulking business.

HULK SMASH!

The Great Escape

The other evening, I got home before the Hubster and did him a favor by de-pooping the yard.  After I opened the gate and deposited said poop in the garbage, I played with the dogs in the backyard for a while.  A big dark cloud was gathering above head so I opted for some fetch and chase play rather than trying to squeeze in any walks before the rain hit.

After our play session, it was dinner time, the Hubster arrived home much to the joy of everyone and I settled downstairs in our den with a beer and the computer.  A few minutes later I hear him call Hurley inside.  Then I hear him stomp across the floor.  Then I hear the front door open.  Then I hear him call Hurley again.  Shit!  Hurley's not in the backyard!  I run upstairs, confirm gate door was left open by me trying to do everyone a favor by de-pooping, grab a leash, some treats, my shoes and fly out the door.  I yell to the Hubster "Go towards Lombard!" (the big busy everyone drives too fast on it road 1 block away from our house that I'm eternally terrified will be the death of my dogs should they ever get out) and start jogging in the opposite direction.  My heart is racing a million miles a minute and all the terrible possible scenarios start sprinting through my head.

"I got him!" the Hubster yells in my direction within 30 seconds.

I return to the house to discover where Hurley ran off to:  the opposite side of the gate at the side of the house where he sat patiently waiting for us to find him.

Note to self:  Next time you think Hurley got out, check the front yard before tearing off to search the neighborhood.