The dogs I dog-slash-housesit for have obviously been watching too much Prison Break while I'm on the computer.
The rule of the house is: if the dogs don't pee when they're let out for their last visit to the great outdoors before bedime, then they are crated. So, the other night I let them both out around 9:30 p.m., and commanded them to "pee!" They looked at me. They licked their haunches. Spencer rolled on my feet. Benny ran back to the side door.
"Benny," I called. "Go pee!" He came back and sat in front of me. Spencer rolled around on his back, and started rubbin his eyes with his paws. As if on cue, they ran to the side door and started barking for me to join them.
As fifteen peeless minutes had passed, I decided to let them back in. I gave them their night time snack, and said "Crate." They both ran in, and I started to zip the door closed.
Dang. No luck.
I tried the other side, and had a little more luck. I couldn't zip the whole thing, but as there was only about one and a half inches not zipped, I figured I was safe.
Around 4 a.m., I started to stir. I kind of needed to get up, but I didn't want to get up. So, I tossed and turned and then I heard this weird sound coming from the crate. "Why, it sounds like the crate is being unzipped," I thought. As soon as that thought cleared my head, the two dogs jumped on the bed and started rolling around. Then Benny ran downstairs, and Spencer curled up next to my face.
I told Spencer I was going to get some parental controls put on the TV, and went back to sleep.