It's My Birthday!

Guess who turned 11 years old today? 

Yours Truly!

Now for the good, the bad, and the dreadful news. 

• The good news:  Because of social isolation, Sister wasn't able to go out and get me an embarrassing hat to wear which pretty much makes this birthday my best birthday yet. 
  
• The bad news:  Because she couldn't get me a hat and felt that I needed something birthday related to pose next to, all those boxes are merely empty props.
• The dreadful news:  Sister did not let me rip up the wrapping paper when she unwrapped the props.
  

But that's not to say that I'm not getting my fair share of birthday love.  I've gotten tons of pets and belly rubs, I got a new chewy toy, I hear there's another present waiting for me in the basement Land of No, and I'm personally rooting for my very own meatball from my family's dinner tonight (hey, a boy only turns 11 once!).

Playing Dirty for the Right to be Dirty

So it finally happened; I got called into HR.  But not for the reasons I would have expected.  I mean, during my first nine weeks as Administrative Assistant, I have made it a twice daily habit of stealing Sister’s shoes and I have purposely invaded her personal space every chance I've gotten.  But no, I got called into HR because I was muddy and smelly and my ears needed cleaning.

Needless to say, I objected strenuously to the accusations.

But despite my complaints, it was ruled that if I was going to continue acting as full time Administrative Assistant to Sister, part time Administrative Assistant to Ma and Pa, and a member in good standing in my family, a bath was required.

As I felt myself spiral into despair because of the ruling, something suddenly dawned on me: all the doggy spas are closed and it's too cold outside for my family to give me a hose-down in the driveway.  So, if my family was truly serious about giving me a bath, they would have to wash me in the bathtub and I knew that there was no way they'd resort to that.  My mood lightened. I wasn't getting a bath anytime soon.

Then the unseasonably cold and rainy spring turned warm and sunny for a single weekend.  Yours truly got hosed down in the middle of the driveway.

Needless to say, I protested vigorously once it was over.

 
I was angry for a really long time.  Most people don’t realize or appreciate how hard I work at becoming nice and stinky—a Grey Retriever rather than a Golden Retriever.  And then, after reaching peak stinkiness, I am jumped by my family armed with a hose and a bottle of shampoo and suddenly I’m all gold and fluffy and smelling like some kind of flower.  The only consolation I found during this entire experience was the fact that social distancing is the norm and no one outside of my family would see me in my newly de-stinked state. 

And because I was angry, I decided to get revenge.

I ditched work on Tuesday.  I did not join Sister in her makeshift office in the Land of No and I did not hang out with Ma in the dining room where she's been working.  Instead, I split my time between the living room and the hallway sighing, moaning, and snoozing.

Now some might say that it was wrong of me to call out sick when I wasn’t and they would be correct.  My actions and motives were less than noble.  But it turns out that my impromptu day off turned out to be exactly what I needed.  Sure, it didn’t help me eliminate that nasty straight from the spa smell (though I did make sure to roll around in the grass every chance I got), but about halfway through the day I realized that I was participating in a mental health day and that that’s something I needed more than all the smelly things in the world to roll in (though obviously I wouldn’t have turned up my nose at them).  It’s a stressful world we’re living in right now, and I’m not immune to it.

The next day, relaxed, rejuvenated, renewed, and a little muddy from wallowing in the grass, I returned to work eager and raring to go.  I beat Sister to the office in the morning, I hung out with her most of the day, and I even offered to work late (Sister told me payroll wouldn’t allow for overtime).  And best of all, I managed to stick my snout into one of Sister’s video conferences.

And the morals of this story:

1. Keep doing what you love.
2. Don’t be ashamed of taking a mental health day.
3. Make sure there’s always something smelly around the house to roll in just in case you're jumped by a family member armed with a hose and a bottle of shampoo.

A Seven Week Study in Administrative Assistant Rigby

Week 1:

Reporting for my first day of work.

Week 2:

Settling into office life with Sister.

Week 3:

If you want to talk to Sister, you have to get through me first.

Week 4:

Break time!

Week 5:

Real estate shopping for a new desk area.

Week 6:

Can I have a raise?

Week 7:

A fluffy towel to snooze on while I invade more and more of Sister's personal space.

 

Week 7:  Behind the Scenes

The look I give Sister when she accidentally drops her phone on me while I'm sleeping.

Defending My Turf

I might be devoting most of my time these days to being the full time Administrative Assistant to Sister and part time Administrative Assistant to Ma and Pa, but that doesn't mean that my responsibilities as Head of Security can be neglected.

Recently, an intruder got a little too close for comfort for me and I had to take matters into my own paws.

It's a dangerous world out there with interlopers just itching to take over when one least expects it.  To that I say, "not on my watch, mourning dove.  Not on my watch!"

Video Conferencing

Monday is my seven-week anniversary as Sister’s Administrative Assistant and I think I’m proving to be a great employee if I do say so myself.  I constantly check in with her, I make sure that she remains unstressed by insisting that she rubs my ears regularly, and I ensure that she has (and shares with me) a proper lunch each day.  Sure, there’s some challenges we’ve had to face—Sister occasionally forgets to drag my desk (pillow) into her office, I’ve missed out on a lot of naps, and Sister has threatened to file a complaint with HR because I keep stealing her shoes—but that happens in all offices, right?

But aside from discovering that I’m an impressive Administrative Assistant, I have also learned something else about myself:  I love video conferencing.

I know.  I know.  Most people hate video conferencing.  They hate being on camera, they hate being recorded, and they hate having to try to look put together when in reality they haven’t worn anything fancier than daytime pajamas in weeks.

But me?  As my loyal readers know, I'm always ready for my closeup.  Sure, my family thinks I'm in need of a bath, but I know that my fur is always luxurious and flowing and looks even better when caked in dirt and covered in grass stains (it adds a level of ruggedness).

I'm also a known ham when it comes to any kind of photography (think of how naturally posing comes to me) and any ham worth his salt knows when the camera starts rolling and I'm no different.  A minute after a video conference begins, I wake up from my nap (I was on break) and, if I’m not already there, make my way to Sister’s make-shift office.  If the door is open, I walk in, but if I discover that the door is closed, I bark my super high pitched bark and refuse to stop until Sister excuses herself from the meeting and opens the door (it’s a reputation thing—if she doesn’t let me in her co-workers will think less of her for letting me bark so piteously).  Once inside the room, I climb over my desk, step on Sister's binders, and force myself between her and her desk.  But despite all this, I'm still out of range of the webcam, so I drape myself as far into Sister’s lap as possible (usually my chin is dripping from a recent drink of water) and lift my snout up in the air.  By doing all this, I can just make my way into the frame.

And oh boy do I know when I’ve succeeded.  Suddenly, all conversation (usually boring since the meeting is rarely about food) ceases and the computer speakers issue forth with a wave of "oohs" and "ahhs."

"Rigby!" I hear.

"Puppy!"

"What a cutie!"

"What's his name?"

"He's so beautiful!"

"Is he a Golden?"

It’s wonderful!  Sure, it would be better if all those admirers were in the room with me, rubbing my belly and scratching my ears, but that wouldn't be the socially responsible thing to do right now.  Sometimes, depending on the conference, Sister even lowers the webcam so that I can appear fully on screen without having to stretch.  Needless to say, that’s when the virtual room explodes.  All I can say is that I’m sure that my cuteness is responsible for countless deals Sister has made over the last month and a half.

Pa and Me

From the sounds of it, I have many more days and weeks as Sister’s Administrative Assistant in front of me, and I can only hope that I have just as many video conferences in my future as well.  But before anyone becomes concerned about me working too hard and stretching myself too thin, please know that I make sure to enjoy the simple things in life every day: I invade Pa’s personal space, I steal Ma’s napkin each night at dinner, I am wildly concerned whenever my family plays Wii Sports (I am not a fan), and I will always consider stealing Sister’s shoes a hobby rather than a job.

Working 9 to 5 (What A Way to Make A Living)

I was wrong.

There, I admit it.

I was completely and totally wrong.

What was I wrong about?  For all my life I've been under the impression that my family were over-exaggerating when they'd come home from work tired.  Going to work always sounded like a piece of cake to me--an experience filled with fun and games.  I mean, work has vending machines, and coffee and lunch breaks, and you get to ride in a car to get to and from there each day.  And judging by the conversations Sister has told me about, everyone spends the entire day talking about their four-legged roommates (how else do I keep up with the comings and goings of Mecki, Bastille, and Baci?).  I ask you, how bad could work be?

But, after a week of working as Sister's Administrative Assistant (while also keeping an eye on Ma who was also working from home), I've come to realize that they are very much entitled to be tired.

Here's what I learned after one week of employment:

1. There are no nap times.  Sure, I sneaked in a few, dare I say, "cat naps," at my desk while Sister worked (my desk is my pillow which was placed next to Sister's desk in the Land of No), but neither Sister or Ma took a nap and as a result, neither could I, properly.  I'm surprised.  They are away from the house for eight solid hours and they don't get one single nap!
2. When someone is working, they don't necessarily have the time to rub my ears and tummy whenever I feel the need.  Case in point, last Wednesday Sister was on the phone and I scurried over for an ear rub.  Well, not only did Sister only rub my ears briefly, but she also apologized to the person she was on the phone with when I gave a "yip" of annoyance for not giving me her complete attention.  What nerve!
3. Working brings about rather unreasonable rules.  Apparently, I'm not allowed to lick computers or shred pieces of paper with passwords written on them.  Unreasonable I say!  Unreasonable!

My First Day At Work

Still, despite these new found revelations and rules, I'm a hard worker and a good Administrative Assistant.  As soon as Sister starts her computer up in the morning, I report to my desk and stay there by her side the entire day unless I'm checking to see how Ma is doing upstairs on her computer or barking to go out.  And when the day is done and Sister turns off her computer, I am completely and totally exhausted--a shadow of my former self.  If I weren't covered in glamorous golden fur, you'd see that I have dark circles under my eyes.

But there has been a new development.  I found out this weekend that Pa will be working, on and off, from home as well starting next week.  Now I'll have all three of my humans hanging around the house.

I'll never rest again!

I Got A Job!

Starting today, Sister is going to be working from home for a little while which means that I'm going to be her new Administrative Assistant. 

Here I am dressed for my first day at work.

Do you think it's too soon to ask for a raise?