Office dog

At the wrestling field, I hear my friends’ people complain about having to leave them home all day and what trouble they get into. I can relate to that. I also like to make my feelings clear when I’m left home alone. Luckily, she brings me to work every day. I love it!
First, we make my breakfast – rice and kibble, yuck. What she eats in her bowl looks a lot tastier, but I don’t complain, some times she’s messy, and I complain even less! Then, we make coffee and go have a cigarette on the roof. I lie in the sun uninterrupted by feline occupiers, and she makes her phone calls. We hang out on the couch for a while playing scrabble, catching up on e-mail, and dealing with whatever came up during the night.
People start showing up, and they each get their own little personal party. I run to my chair where they come and greet me. I’m a real queen, I get hugs, kisses, we play tug – they never fail to compliment me on one thing or another. Yesterday, I got props for not jumping! Once the love fest is over, I can’t help but follow them around, I feel like if I ever want a raise, I should keep them updated on the status of my work, so I bring them my ropes to collect well deserved praise on my chewing progress.
Everyone has breakfast, we have another cigarette, more coffee – she’s starting to shake a little. I settle back on the couch while everyone around me gets back to their laptops. Checking the latest youtube videos, reading their favorite blogs. She settles at her desk to begin working. Just as she’s getting reacquainted with the numbers she needs to work with, it’s time for lunch.
More coffee, more cigarettes – I work hard on my tan on sunny afternoons and preheat the couches for them when its yucky outside. Everyone is respectful of my post lunch napping and joins in a concerted effort to rock me to sleep to the rhythm of their keyboards. Ever so often, I am called upon to perform my duties to some, I provide a top notch snuggle break; others prefer that I lie on my back and stretch my paws out as high as I can reach so they can call me a weirdo and obtain an office-wide poll of what a cutie patootie I am.
She starts getting restless at this point, pacing back and forth to the kitchen, trying to find a snack that’ll hit the spot. I wish I could remind her that really, she’s craving wrestling practice – it takes her a while, but although I’m still passed out on the couch, enjoying the peace and quiet, she manages to make it sound like I’m badgering her to go home. She drags me off the couch, and we’re off to the ring – my real day begins!