So, we are (as usual) wrapping gifts on the Eve. Bosley and his Great Paws find the task much to tempting so he is, Horror of Horrors, locked in the kitchen.
Now mind you, this is less then five feet from where I am wrapping. We are separated by a child safety gate so he's far from segregated.
After getting 'the look' under the gate for some time he decides to make his own fun.
Clu has a crate in the kitchen. She loves it and you'll often find her napping there in the middle of the day. But, she is small, thus it is small.
I do have a point I promise.
So, Bosley is out in the kitchen and I hear quite the ruckus, I glance out and see....no Bosley. Hmm... "Bosley?" Instantly a black speckled nose, followed by the rest of him emerges from Clu's crate. It's a lot like watching clowns exiting a car. Shaking my head in disbelief I return to wrapping, keeping one eye on the kitchen to catch Houdini in the act.
After a forlorn sigh he once again returns to the entrance of Clu's crate, drops nearly to his belly and heads on in. Moments later his head pokes out of the door.
How he makes himself fit, let alone turn around, is a mystery.  So, I've finally released him from his terrible torment in the kitchen and given all the dogs an early gift that they are now enjoying quietly.

Keeping them out of the gifts until morning...wish me luck.

As this morning dawns cold and white here and I take the dogs out for their morning potty breaks Caleb, my diva, stops.
He is a dog that would live his life on a couch getting belly scratches and pawdicures, so snow...much less cold is an affront to his nature.
The other two go out and do their business (Bosley still couldn't care less about the snow) but he just looks at me. After a few minutes of puppy mind control I realize he likely expects me to hold his bunny butt so he doesn't get his paws dirty... I unceremoniously lure him into the trenches with a chicken heart.
Yes. I'm that cruel.