Hello, Dolly!
A plaintive whine emerged from the crate in my wife’s home office. Not again. The sound seemed to build as it traveled down the hall, invading the stillness of our bedroom. Not that my wife, Marilyn, and I were asleep. We’d been lying awake—the occasional long sigh escaping from one of us—for hours. Ever since we’d put our eight week-old golden retriever to bed.
Dolly was unbelievably adorable. And unbelievably energetic. She bounded around the house and yard all day. She should have been tired by now. She’d worn us out, that was for sure.
How could one little puppy make this much noise? How long was she going to keep it up?
Marilyn and I had decided to cratetrain Dolly, partly for housebreaking and partly because a crate would provide a safe place for our dog to rest
