My Missing Co-Worker

Over these last ten pandemic months, I’ve really come to enjoy my time as Sister’s Administrative Assistant.  I snooze by her side during meetings (sometimes directly under her chair making her unable to move), demand an ear rub when she’s stressed, make sure that she takes all her 15-minute coffee breaks (we spend them outside chasing squirrels), and keep a close eye on the time clock so that she’s always back to her desk on time after lunch.  I’ve learned the phrase “go to work,” am sorely disappointed on weekends and holidays when Sister is off, and generally get along quite well with my co-worker though we are currently engaged in a longstanding disagreement about shoes—I want to carry them away and chew on them and Sister wants me to leave them alone.

But last week, something happened.

In hindsight, I should have known something was weird when Sister sat down at her computer forty minutes early, but I was too excited about going to work to be suspicious.  So, as Sister signed onto her computer and filled out something called a "COVID-19 Health Screening," I took up my usual spot next to her on the floor.  But just as I was about to enter dreamland, Sister suddenly got up, grabbed her coat and car keys, and left the house.

I was in shock.  Where was Sister going?  Why wasn’t she at work?  And, most importantly, what was I supposed to do while she was gone?

First, I decided to try holding down the fort in Sister’s absence.  I hung out in the office, right next to Sister’s empty chair, and waited for the phone calls to start pouring in.  I was nervous, I won’t lie, but I was really hoping that I’d be able to land a big deal in her absence.  Maybe then she’d promote me from Administrative Assistant to Partner.

But the phone never rang.

Despondent (and seeing my promotion go down the proverbial drain) I lay at the foot of her chair sighing, moaning, crying, and yipping until Ma came in and checked up on me. 

Ma suggested that I join her in her makeshift office and, with nothing better to do, I obliged.  Following her into the dining room, I threw myself down under the table and waited for the phone call which would prove my worth and elevate my standing in her company to Partner.  That phone never rang either.

Once again despondent (and seeing my second promotion of the day going down the proverbial drain), I lay there under the dining room table sighing, moaning, crying, and yipping until Ma shouted at me to be quiet.

Offended, I wandered back into Sister’s office and took up my spot, once again, at the foot of her empty chair.  There I sulked—with intermittent breaks for sighing, moaning, crying, and yipping—for what felt like days until Sister finally returned home and took her place at her desk.

Sister’s absence that day (and all the subsequent sighing, moaning, crying, and yipping) lasted for a grand total of two hours.  Turns out, Sister went into the office that morning—her real work office —to drop some stuff off, sort through her mail, and collect binders and papers to bring home again with her.  When she was done, she came back home to finish out the work day with me. 

Needless to say, I was beside myself with joy to find that I still had a job.  Sister, after hearing about how confused and despondent I was, dragged my pillow into the office, straightened my blanket on the floor, and even brought my dinosaur toy in.  After demanding that Sister rub my ears and neck (I was still wearing the Cone of Shame and my ear was still stitched up and healing), I curled up on my pillow and finished out the workday snoozing.