So I was in charge of putting Maggie in the bathroom when I left for work. This is not a big deal, but it does entail wedging a large piece of wood precisely inside the door frame and then hooking it to the door frame with bungee cords. (We had a baby gate, but she learned to climb over it within four days.) So we get home from work and there’s poop on the entryway floor. Hmmm. How could that be? Cat poop? Nope, dog poop (we could tell because there were carrots in it—one of her chew treats). How did that happen? When did she do that? So we go upstairs and the dog is not in the bathroom…and the piece of wood was moved enough where she could get out!
Turns out that I didn’t place the wood quite precisely enough and she got her paws in and moved it! Oh, imagine the fun she had once she got out… but ironically, somehow she had gotten herself locked in our bathroom! So, we have no idea how long she was free before she got herself caught! We joked that the cats probably got tired of her chasing them and they corralled her and locked her in!