I Twittered that my house looks like Alcatraz. This is why:
I have three of these--one leading upstairs, one leading downstairs, and one on kitchen door #1. Kitchen door #2 has a smaller wooden gate that Elijah can jump over, so I added a bunch of junk to block it off. That makes FOUR GATES with bars in a 500 square foot area which I believe makes my house the first split-level cell block evvahh.
OK, I'm advertising this place because I love it: dog and cat owners, check out PET EDGE. You can't beat the prices, (though the shipping rates on these gates just about killed me; however, they're worth--every--penny).
Now if I can only get him to take a dump in the yard. Yeah, Elijah seems to be laboring under the delusion that the backyard is an "extension" of his house, so naturally he doesn't want to do the dirty deed there. I'll haul him around the yard, begging "Please poop! Please poop!" while he sniffs and eats grass and barks at the doxie two yards away. Eventually he'll drag me all the way to the end of the street where he'll dump on a neighbor's lawn--inevitably at the house of the two NOISY beagles he loves to harass--"Ha-ha, I crapped on your territory, you pyscho morons!"--and then I can schelp it back home in a plastic bag. A backpack is next on my wish list: "Here, mutt. Carry it home yourself."