My Job as a Dog

The Analyst grinds his teeth, while I talk, looking into his monitor, idly clicking here and there. She's not going to stop hounding me until I throw her a bone. He looks resignedly into my brown eyes. I can ignore her all day and she won't go away. I can explain how I don't have time to put documents on these websites, but she doesn't understand. Afterall, she's just a temp. The Analyst sighs, pulls a piece of paper from a desk drawer, and extends it across the desk to me.

I can't help but quiver with anticipation. Something to do! I'm thinking, Something to DO!

"Here's a contact list for you! Yes, look, nice shiny contact list! Good girl! Ok, now put it on the website! Go, on, go put it on the website!"

Ecstatic, I grab the document and bound to my office, panting with excessive energy. This is what I live for! This is what gets me out of bed at 6:45 every morning! This is what I give up 40 hours of my week for! I leap into my desk chair and prance across the keyboard, fingers like lightning. Upload! Upload! Must Upload!

All too soon, it is over. The work is done. Five short minutes of work. My ears droop. I curl my legs up into my chair and wonder who else I can hound.

Not everyone here likes dogs. One analyst looks at me over the top of his glasses and flat out refuses to give me anything to work on. He sneers at me that his contacts are up to date. "Really? Well, if you just give me a list..."

"They're up. To date." He sits there in his chair like a boulder, frowning at me, looking slightly bored. He takes me through his credits one at a time, telling me exactly why he ain't gonna do shit with any of them. I slink out of there. Back in my office I try to shake off the cold wet contempt he has dumped all over me, but it's sticky. That fat bastard didn't have to be so mean, I think to myself.

My masters don't seem to have their eye on the ball. When I tell them about my meeting with the fat guy, the little boss is furious, but the big boss says, "Well, he probably doesn't have any documents for these sites. These are unusual projects." She just gives him a pass to keep being an asshole. Meanwhile the rest of the analysts are at least throwing me week-old chicken bones, probably just because I'm cute.

I have better results digging in the backyard. The records department has been able to make enough old documents available to keep me happily chewing on data for several days.

Thankfully, so has the little boss. She was the one who really wanted me, I think. There's always one person in the family who wants a puppy, and everyone else hates to have to feed it. The little boss does a great job at giving me all sorts of work to do. She sits with me when I need to clarify things, she makes time for me, and when she got back from her business trip she emailed me SO many megabytes of documents! I feel so appreciated and needed and loved.

For a dog.