O.k. I have mentioned the four dogs who come to work at my office. Annabelle-- the puppy pit-- is now about a year old and still wanting to chew everything. She has ingested two beds and 4 or 5 doggie toys and now has only two rubber bones remaining for her entertainment. Several cardboard boxes have shredded corners, and anything plastic is endangered. I can no longer walk past her wearing a skirt of any length because she thinks the swishing fabric is beckoning her to bite, bite, bite! (Occasionally the bites go through the fabric into the leg, and I have a nice little row of what looks like vampire bites on my left calf. She seems to prefer my left side... a definite threat to the party in power.)
Annabelle and Malone (the boxer-pit) spend most of their office time asleep on the only remaining dog bed that has not been chewed up. There is a kind of love-hate relationship between them as they vye for space on this sad little bed. Usually Malone gets his butt and hind legs on the bed, with Annabelle squeezing her whole, skinny self on the 1/3 that is left. The snoring becomes more and more apparent after their lunch/pee break (and reward of biscuits for successful and appropriate peeing), and I sometimes have to wake them up in order to have a conversation on the phone. (Once a caller asked if they were using a jackhammer on the street outside.) The whining dreams are not as upsetting to callers, who just assume we are having some kind of emotional meltdown.
Besides providing amusement and sympathetic eyes when things go wrong, the dogs' main job is to frighten all new visitors who come to our basement door. This ensures that the unsuspecting visitors will not break down the door and try to mess with our small--but incredibly talented-- office staff. We do not get many solicitations, and we have to escort the meter reader to the small closet that holds the secret meters owned by the power company. We could probably avoid paying our electric bill by keeping him at bay for months at a time, but have decided it might ultimately lead to increased rates or total darkness.
Annabelle and Malone (the boxer-pit) spend most of their office time asleep on the only remaining dog bed that has not been chewed up. There is a kind of love-hate relationship between them as they vye for space on this sad little bed. Usually Malone gets his butt and hind legs on the bed, with Annabelle squeezing her whole, skinny self on the 1/3 that is left. The snoring becomes more and more apparent after their lunch/pee break (and reward of biscuits for successful and appropriate peeing), and I sometimes have to wake them up in order to have a conversation on the phone. (Once a caller asked if they were using a jackhammer on the street outside.) The whining dreams are not as upsetting to callers, who just assume we are having some kind of emotional meltdown.
Besides providing amusement and sympathetic eyes when things go wrong, the dogs' main job is to frighten all new visitors who come to our basement door. This ensures that the unsuspecting visitors will not break down the door and try to mess with our small--but incredibly talented-- office staff. We do not get many solicitations, and we have to escort the meter reader to the small closet that holds the secret meters owned by the power company. We could probably avoid paying our electric bill by keeping him at bay for months at a time, but have decided it might ultimately lead to increased rates or total darkness.
posted by Melinda | 7:46 AM
1 Comments:
Your writing is very cool--well-paced, humorous, smart. Keep this blog going.
From a fellow (womanal?) momblogger & dog lover.
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