Anyway when I go out, I lock Roscoe in the kitchen with a babygate thing I hooked up.
Last night I went out to dinner and when I got home something was wrong. I walked in the door and the first thing I saw was a magazine was ripped up on my floor. A couch pillow was on the ground. A roll of toilet paper was over in the corner. I look over to the kitchen and the gate was open! Roscoe had busted the lock right out of the wall! He broke out! (Not too give him too much credit for his criminal activity... When I say "lock" I'm really referring to a small hookscrew latch that's screwed into a plastery crumbly wall but whatever...). Anyway, Roscoe had been free for a while running amok. He'd never been home alone before.
I called his name and he came walking out my computer room with some paper in his mouth. (Roscoe is banned from the computer room ever since he pooped wet all over the bundle of computer tangled wires under my desk. Plus my chair rolls and can hurt his paws. It's just not safe in there so he's been banished.) Anyway, I was happy to see he seemed fine. Like he didn't go off and mess himself up on his freedom time.
I did an inspection of my whole apartment and all that was really bad was some paper ripped up. There was no pee or poop. No major damage to anything. No destruction. Just sort of dog paper riprip buffonery everywhere.
It made me think of Roscoe as like one of those convicts that break out of jail and don't know what to do with themselves. Like so much goes into the thought of getting out that once they're out they realized they didn't totally expect that their plan would work and didn't really plan for the plan working. Like it must have taken Roscoe a good amount of pushing on the gate and when it popped open he must have been shocked.
He probably sat in the kitchen feeling like he was gonna be in trouble. But after a bit of time he wandered out of the kitchen. A free dog. For the first time. Unsupervised time. He probably wondered what he should do? Maybe umm.... Maybe go and.....umm.... over there maybe I could go and umm.... I guess since he's just a puppy his thought spectrum isn't that big and he is probably limited in terms thinking up of actual ideas. So he defaulted to paper ripping. Lots of paper ripping.
I guess paper ripping is sort of a thumb twiddling for dogs who can't twiddle due to the thumblessness.
PS. Sorry there's been no pictures lately. I know this sounds weird but I lost my camera in my apartment. I remember taking it and putting it somewhere safe and out of the way. And now I don't remember where that is. But I'm cleaning up today and I'm sure it will turn up probably maybe or maybe not.