If you’ve been keeping up with my Rebel posts, you’ll agree she is a mess. She’s exasperating, frustrating, and all the other negative -ating words that you can think up. But then she walks up to us and sets her chin on a leg as she gazes up adoringly with those chocolate brown eyes, and our hearts melt. Sometimes she’ll prance up to me and throw herself on the floor, then roll over on to her back, exposing her belly. That’s her invitation to rub her tummy. If we don’t comply, she wiggles her hips back and forth like an inch worm making its way across the yard. And if we still don’t obey, she reaches over and nudges a hand with her nose. If she had opposable thumbs and could speak English, she’d make a great salesperson—the girl doesn’t take no for an answer.
In our efforts to cut down on costs (i.e. replacing things that Rebel eats), we shut as many doors as we can. Closets, pantry, bedrooms, office, etc. Unfortunately, this method of discouragement makes our house energy inefficient. Rooms are stuffy in the summer, ice cold in the winter, which makes the kitchen and living room the only comfortable rooms in the house. John and I joked about putting in Dutch doors—you know, the doors cut in half so you can open just the top. But it’s expensive and more of a home unimprovement—let’s face it, the next homeowners aren’t going to want Dutch doors in their home.
The other issue we have is that the hallway doesn’t have a door, so we can’t shut it off from Rebel. There’s not anything down there of interest, at least to us—just a spare bedroom and bath, both with their doors tightly shut. Still, that dog loves to hang out in the dark recesses of the least used part of the house. She’s discovered it’s a great place to conduct research, because we hardly go down there. Experiments such as, how many separate pieces can she create from John’s earbuds? How long can she chew on John’s tennis shoes before being discovered? You might notice a pattern in Rebels experiments—they normally include John’s possessions. But that’s another story.
In a brilliant lightbulb moment, John realized baby gates could be the answer to all our problems. They’re tall enough to keep out Rebel, but still let in air flow. We can communicate through closed baby gates much more successfully than doors too. And any married couple will agree, it’s hard enough to communicate in a relationship without throwing closed doors into the mix. We’ve got a gate on the entrance to our bedroom and our bathroom, which is fabulous. Rebel can be in the bedroom supervised, but never in a bathroom—there’s just too much temptation. Our hallway is blocked, so no more secret experiments. Baby gates have literally changed our lives.
As John installed our new favorite gadget, he observed our home is safer than ever, in case either of our children produces offspring. Sure, we’ve still got exposed electrical outlets and poisonous items under our kitchen and bathroom sink. But Rebel proofing is awfully like baby proofing, and that makes me happy.
Jann Goar Franklin graduated Russellville High School in 1985 and lives in Grand Cane, Louisiana. She also writes books, which are for sale at www.jannfranklin.com. You can reach her at jann@jannfranklin.com