The little man of the house has quickly morphed into a sly little fox. He's swift and he's savvy and now laughs in the face of containment.
Our living room keeps P'Dub contained with barriers of the homemade variety – no fancy gates or dog crates here. Stacked pillows...no problem. A heavy box...child's play. The play yard...challenging, but doable. As soon as Preston detects the slightest lack in undivided attention from Jeremy or me, he's on the move. His goal...break on through to the 'other' side (of the living room).
Once I spy the tiny prisoner he's quickly granted a stern, "PRESTON. NO." This is followed by a turn of the head, sneaky grin, panting, and then hauling his crawling rear-end across the floor at speeds nearing 2mph. He's speedy when he wants to be!
And this is how he gets nicknames like Captain Sneaky Pants. Jeremy and I are also fond of 'you little shit' and 'little beast'.