We brought an 8-week Morky home New Year's Eve. As expected, he cried in his crate with several versions of fake painful sounds, all of them sounding like pitiful, bloody murder. He, and we, finally dropped off.
Second night, we decided to leave the crate door open within his corral so he could go out to urinate. He composed another night-of-the-living dead aria, and after hours of this I checked, and he had knocked the crate door closed so he couldn't get back in, and he was plastered up against the corral wall like a splat of mud, wailing.
That's when I decided to lock him in the crate like the night before, only this time he whimpered twice and then dropped off quickly. The peace for my wife and me was delicious. He woke up at 4am, cried, I took him out to urinate, then stuck him in and locked the crate. He dropped right off again. Praise God, something actually worked in my life - nothing has ever worked for 64 years, but now it did.
I came to the conclusion that the closed door of his small crate (just enough room for him to snugly turn around) gives him a sense of cave-like security. I'm hoping tonight is even better.