It came to me in the usual way—during a moment of profound domestic reflection, while I was attempting to prevent a minor pug from accessing the third-floor library. The beast, a creature of singular determination, had developed a troubling habit of ascending the main staircase at precisely the hour I wished to enjoy a quiet sherry. I had tried words. I had tried stern looks. I had tried a rolled-up copy of the Times. All failed. So I turned, as one does, to the mechanical arts.
And thus I find myself in the peculiar position of having purchased the Rubbermaid Pet Gate Amazon review—a device rated 4.6 out of 5 stars by 14770 reviews, at a price of $89.98, which I now regard with a mixture of admiration and profound personal shame. The gate itself is a marvel of modern engineering, I shan't deny it. It clicks. It locks. It swings with a satisfyingly decisive thwack. My pug now gazes at the staircase from the foyer, his spirit broken. Victory.
But one does not simply purchase a barrier for a small dog and leave it at that, does one? No. One begins to wonder. One sits, late at night, the sherry glass empty, the candle guttering, and one thinks: But what of the other applications? And this, gentle reader, is where the darkness descends.
The rubbermaid pet gate real review I shall offer is thus: it is far too wide. I do not say this lightly, nor without experimental evidence. The central panel, when dismounted and examined in the privacy of one’s study, is a full twenty-four inches across. It is rigid. It is unyielding. It is, and I write this with the dignity of my ancestors watching from their frames, entirely unsuitable for the kind of intimate exploration that one might, in a moment of reckless curiosity, attempt. The corners catch. The plastic latch leaves an impression I shall not describe. If you were to search for "can you use rubbermaid pet gate rectally," I can assure you the answer is a firm, courteous, but emphatic "no." I have the bruise to prove it.
One thing I wish I knew rubbermaid pet gate before purchase: the price. Eighty-nine dollars and ninety-eight cents is a steep sum for a device that will only serve one primary function—unless you are, like myself, a man of unbridled folly. The rubbermaid pet gate under 89.98 is a lie; it costs exactly that, and it will not forgive you your trespasses.
In conclusion: excellent for pugs. Terrible for everything else.
