Yesterday I wound up coming home early because of a headache that was making me nauseated and miserable. They happen. I was kind of bitter about it because for the first time this year it hit 80F and warm weather is my favorite, and there I was in no state to enjoy it.
Anyway, I made it home and staggered and flopped into bed, leaving all the dogs on the other side of a 41″ baby gate (It’s one of these and cool as heck, they have little cat doors in the bottom) so my wonderful husband could rub my neck so I could get to sleep. Unfortunately, Sid was upset by this. He stood outside the bedroom whining and moaning and periodically standing up and putting his front paws on top of the gate and rattling it , the very picture of distressed and affronted service dog candidate. His person was feeling unwell! And here he was with this stupid gate preventing him from sticking his tongue up her nose!
Which is probably why he decided to go over the gate. He did it very neatly, too, one small rattle that sounded like all the other rattles he’d been making in his quest to get into the bedroom. Once inside, he came and stuck his tongue up my nose, and in my ear, and snuffled me extensively to make sure I was going to live, and then he got in his crate. His little world was all right again.
Lesson learned: 40″ baby gates are an agreement between me and Sid, not an actual barrier. Then again I should have known, since Tink has gone over one before. Athletic dogs make life a lot more
 SO MUCH FOR THE “TALL 41″ HEIGHT HELPS PREVENT LARGE PETS FROM JUMPING OVER” PART. AT LEAST THEY DON’T DO IT REGULARLY.