Shepherd or Shark?

I think Orion caught me looking at Bad Dog Rufus the other day, because today he took his usual separation anxiety antics to a new level. Rufus might be trouble, but at least his adventures have earned him (and his owners) a reality show gig, which probably helps put kibble on the table. Orion... let's just say he's a monetary black hole. The latest victim? His $200+ "gorilla tough" dog crate from Drs. Foster & Smith.

I grabbed my youngest (human) child and headed off to the gym at about 9:30 this morning. My DH was supposed to be home shortly thereafter since he has to work the midnight watch tonight. Even though Orion was only supposed to be home alone for a few minutes, I still dutifully crated him. Crating Orion involves one padlock and 6 metal carabiners that screw closed. He looks up at me mournfully and as I reinforce the two latches all around the crate door I remind him that we would have let him sleep on the leather couch, but no, he had to leave and take the cats with him. It's a calm but not pleasant or quick process. Anyway, a few minutes later, I left.

My daughter and I both enjoyed ourselves at the gym, and knowing that my DH was home now, I ran another errand. On the way home from my second stop, however, my DH called to tell me he was still stuck at work - it was now noon. Great. The %$%#! dog has now been unexpectedly home alone for almost 3 hours. Hoping for the best, I headed straight home.

I opened the front door, which is good, because I've found it wide open before. No dog. Good, because if he had gotten out he would be greeting me right now. I walked back to the bedroom and over to his crate. Wait. What's that on the floor? Why, they're the bars from his crate! Scattered over the floor in front of the crate were two of the metal bars, warped and twisted into little metal snakes. So much for "Durable welded steel construction" and "Closely spaced, heavy-duty 6- and 9-gauge wire, the sturdiest cage wire available." We'd already long since laughed off the "Dog-proof cam lock foils even the best escape artist, yet is easy to open for you". Here is a picture of what was left of the bars (with my keys for reference, and well, I'd just walked in the door):


Where the bars had been is now a wide gap, and crate door itself was so badly warped and chewed that the padlock was the only thing holding it on. Maybe we could recoup some of our losses if we enter him in a locksmithing contest or something? Here is a picture of his destroyed bed (big holes torn in it, covered in drool and pee, which is just lovely), the waffled crate door falling off its hinges, and, sadly, the bloody drool on the floor from his chewing efforts:


Orion is fine, lest you worry. In fact, I think it cleaned his teeth a little bit (good, less doggie dental costs!). But this latest event has us wondering just how strong is this dog? The damage to the crate reminded me of something I saw a few weeks ago at the amazing Tennessee Aquarium in Chattanooga: a shark cage, after a Great White gave it a test bite.

Orion isn't even a "chewer". In fact, when we thought he was mostly Lab, we gave him tons of chew toys and couldn't understand why he didn't like any of them. We tried to keep him entertained in our absence with Kong Toys and chew toys filled with treats, but he wouldn't touch them. Now he eats a hunk of metal. We may never know his breed, and I question his intelligence regularly (I suspect that's mutual), but we're finally catching on to how catastrophic those canines can be!

Too Smart for His Own Good

Upon learning that he's a Shepherd, not a Lab, Orion got smarter. Much smarter. Like, 40 IQ points or something.

We've been leaving him home alone a few times a week for a few hours at a time. The blinds must be open, so he can see out in all directions. He must be sent to his bed and given Newman's Own treats before I walk out the door. He must have a full water bowl, of course. Often I leave the tv on for company, too. And of course he's still on Clomicalm. So far, so good - until he discovered he's a Shepherd.

A few weeks ago we were gone for several hours while running errands and picking my sister up at the airport. It wasn't much longer than usual, but it turned out that time wasn't the issue. As we pulled up to the house, Orion greeted us. From the front lawn. Our front door was wide open.

Now, security issues aside, we have two old indoor cats, so the open front door scared the hell out of me. Omen, our Maine Coon cat was sitting just inside the door, apparently displeased with the Floridian humidity. I sent the kids looking for our other cat, Callie. No Callie. As a thunderstorm opened up directly overhead, my sister crawled around the outside of our home calling the cat. A few more bolts of lightening and both the cat and my sister beat feet to the front door to get back in a.s.a.p. So thanks to the storm, we had everyone inside safely within a few minutes.

Once the initial pet-panic was over, however, we had a chance to consider what exactly the dog had done to escape. He had unlocked the deadbolt, turned the doorknob, and pulled the door open. That's impressive. I know humans who can't handle "pull" doors. To make matters worse, a very, VERY kind neighbor stopped by that evening to tell us she had seen him out, returned him, and relocked our door 3 times that morning, apparently before the last time when we came home. So it wasn't a fluke; he learned how to open the door.

We considered child-proof covers, but he's stronger than they are. We considered more locks or chains, but he's already destroyed the trim they would be anchored to, so they wouldn't hold either. We were stumped.

Finally, the time came when I had to leave him again. I gave him Benydryl (at our vet's recommended dose) and locked him in his crate. I used a padlock on the latch, and 6 other metal latches to reinforce the door (he's broken out of it before). I called my husband and told him to come home as soon as he could, then I left, hoping for the best.

We've had to leave him several times since then, and next week, it's going to be almost daily. He tears up all his bedding, pants, and probably cries, but he hasn't hurt himself or gotten free - yet. Hopefully in time he'll get used to it and just take a nap. Hopefully. If he can learn to open doors, maybe he can learn that we're coming home, too.