When I repainted my spare bedroom, I moved Papa's crate to a different corner. She loves her crate. If you try to talk to her or give her a kiss while she’s in there, she’ll look away as if she doesn’t see you. I think Papa had gotten used to her crate being in a highly visible place (you could see it from the dining room).
When I moved a bookshelf to that corner, she did not really adapt. She would settle in for the night only to go sleep on the floor where the crate used to be.
One night, I came home to find that she had knocked a bowl of makeup off the shelf and eaten a tube of Aveda Hand Relief. She did this shortly after the paprika incident. That was a crazy week. Oh Papa, I’ll try to show more respect for your home next time. Point taken.
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