I brought Tig home from the vet today. Had to rush him back in last week for more kidney stone issues. I borrowed an exercise pen from Sarah, who has Dachshunds, and put it across the kitchen area so Tig could have a more spacious area than the guest room bathroom. He was unimpressed. Since he’s figured out how to get out of the Cone of Shame (seven times now) so that only duct tape stops him from escaping, he put his Tig brain to work trying to figure out how to get out of this cage. And almost figured it out. Sarah tied the cage to the far cabinet, so that when Tig pushes against it, the cabinet closes, not opens. But he’s smart. He found the weakest spot. Thankfully, not smart enough.
He’s back in the guest room bathroom now, because I need to sleep without hearing him yowl. Which he will.
Tig is much, much better, and I am much, much happier as a result.