


Looking back now, it's easy to see that Mom and Dad had overlooked something when they adopted me. Something big, too. Don't get me wrong: they covered the basics really well. Constant attention, great chow, delicious treats, doctor visits and regular walks when weather permitted. But they lacked a plan for how to care for me while they were at work. Suckers for questionable advice, they swallowed what the shelter provided whole. Buy a metal cage. Call it a house. While at work, keep Tango in the cage, and train him to sleep in it at night. Apparently, that's the traditional training method in the United States.
And so it was. During the day, I found myself downstairs in the family room. I had a nice view through the black bars of our backyard and the park beyond it, and Mom stocked it with food, water, and a pad. But I hated the arrangement and didn't eat or drink until they returned from work. Can you blame me? At night, Dad moved the cage to the master bedroom, and I slept inside it there. I badly wanted out, and to soothe my anxiety, he'd sleep on the floor in front of me. My reactions concerned them, and one night my efforts to change their minds paid off: they moved me to their bed! Tango 1, Cage 0.
With night time no longer a concern, I needed a miracle to break free from my weekday routine. It came soon after, thanks to my Auntie in Japan. She's one of Mom's younger sister and lived in Osaka. She'd raised three dogs, two Cavalier King Charles Spaniels and a Bull Terrier while she ran her Korean restaurant, and never used a metal cage! The idea infuriated her. She lectured Mom that confining me in a pen 6-square feet was unfair. That feedback sent Mom into action. Days later, Walmart sent us a plastic fence enclosure, and that was my new 'house' during weekdays, a full 9 square feet. Soon after, Mom ordered two more enclosures and hooked them up. Now my turf covered 27 square feet of the second-story loft, giving me more freedom. If you look carefully at the background of the top photo on this page, you can see the cage and one of the plastic panels. You'll also notice I'm wearing a cat bell, another countermeasure Mom came up with because of my size and stealth.
Thus, the days of December rolled by. I would've preferred no enclosure during the day, of course, but managed. Work for the year ended the day before Christmas Eve, when Honda shut down until early January and Mom took off from the dental lab. That's when they gave me a big surprise: our first trip, by car and all the way to Florida! I'll tell you more about that next time. Until then, thanks for reading my Tales.
Tango
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