Took My Dog To The Pennel

I usually get out of the unpleasant task of taking the dog to the kennel (the pennel, I should say), because I hate the thought of her being there.

But yesterday, with us going away for a couple days, and the roads turning out to be bad because of the snow, I had to join the effort to get the dog out there. It's in the country, where the roads are more treacherous than the normal treacherous roads in town.

So there I was, getting her situated in the building with the other dogs. The other dogs go insane when you open the door. At this point it's not territorial, it's just orneriness, I'm guessing. Or trying to get your attention to say, "Get me out of here away from all these noisy dogs," not realizing that each time they individually pipe up they're making it worse for everyone. But you can't reason with a building full of barking dogs.

I don't care about reasoning with them, but I do care that my dog has to sit there and hear that. But what am I supposed to do? She can't stay home by herself.

The kennel is a bunch of pens in an outbuilding at a farm. In my opinion they could use some sound dampeners to make it more cozy for the dogs. So there isn't the same terrible noise level.

It's interesting that the dogs -- who are always most interested in each other when two meet on the street -- aren't the slightest bit interested in each other when they're in the pennel. They're only interested in any human beings who happen to open the door.

I left behind a blanket someone gave me for Christmas, that I'd been wrapped up in for a couple days. Maybe no one else in the world likes my scent, but the dog seems to.