When Grandma got her dog Vicki from my sister Ky, she also received all Vicki's things. This included numerous squeaky toys, bones, balls, and two dog crates (one carrier for on the plane and a larger plastic model).
Every time I go to Grandma's, she asks me why she has these crates and what she is supposed to do with them. I explain that she should leave the plastic one out with the door open so that Vicki can go in it and sleep when she wants and that she can just leave the smaller carrier in storage for later use if need be. Grandma doesn't understand. Vicki sleeps with her, so why would she need another bed? Also, since Vicki will be living with her forever and ever, why would she need a travel case?
Fine. Just keep them in the cupboard Grandma.
The other night, Grandma called me in a panic. She had gone to the storage closet and discovered one of the crates was missing!!! Grandma wanted to know if I had taken it or if someone else had broken into her apartment and taken it. I assured her that neither had happened, but the case had likely gotten moved or tucked out of sight. Grandma assured me that I was wrong. It was stolen!!! By me!!! I had just forgotten to tell her about it!!!
I gently suggested she take one more look while I was on the phone. She set the phone down and I could hear her in the other room opening doors and moving things. Moments became minutes and I was pretty sure she had forgotten she was on the phone. I was about to call her name loudly to see if she would hear it and come back to the phone. Heck, at that point, I was hoping I could call the dog's attention to the phone.
Grandma eventually came back. She advised that she was right after all and the case had gotten moved behind the larger crate. She was quite pleased that it had all worked out in the end. Just before she hung up the phone, she said my name.
Thank you for calling, dear.