Looking at her, you would think she is cute and innocent. That is where you would be wrong!
She is, in fact, an diabolical mastermind who has now twice escaped from maximum security prison (also known as the puppy playpen we bought to put her in when we go out). Because of her size (not to mention her penchant for harassing the cat!), I agree with the puppy books I've been reading that say it's a good idea to confine her for her own safety when we're not home to supervise. We put the playpen in the living room so she won't be lonely, but is still in a safe place. It is bigger than some NY studio apartments and has everything a puppy could want inside (dog bed, piddle pad, teddybear, a soft blanket, toys, food, water, a nice view of not only the living room, but also the kitchen and back deck), but apparently it is not up to Miss Lily's standards.
I swear the moment I leave the animals all start chanting "Attica! Attica!" to get her riled up. Then, next thing you know, Baxter cues the Mission Impossible music and the great escape to sweet freedom begins. I'm am not sure, but I suspect it may involve rope and a grappling hook, because I sure can't figure out how it is that she is getting out. I'm guessing she is a climber. Twice now we have have come home to find Lily not safely tucked away in her playpen, but happily wiggling at the door with the other dogs when we open it.
Knowing that my little puppy is somehow scaling her way to the top of the plastic fence and free falling off the top does little to instill confidence that the she is safe at home and in no danger of getting hurt, which kind of defeats the purpose of the playpen. She's great about staying in the rare times we put her in when we're home, but turn your back and she's suddenly Hairy Houdini. Clearly, my little friend has no concept of how big she is NOT.
It's not so much that I worry about the other dogs harming Lily on purpose (they are sweet and very patient with her), but they get excited sometimes and I would hate for her to get trampled if she got underfoot (paw?) while they were playing or enthusiastically barking at a squirrel outside the picture window. But, alas, Miss Lily has other ideas.