Doggy Style

Last year a woman who works in our office brought in her dog to work with her. For no apparent reason. What made it so odd, besides the fact that there was a dog in our normally canine-free office, was that she was so matter-of-fact about it, like it was something that we all did on occasion or something. One of the people who was not so matter of fact about it was me. And not just because when I was sitting at my desk and noticed it out of the corner of my eye, I screamed maniacally because I thought that it was a furry rat or a gremlin or something.
She ran in, “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of Fluffy!” she said. Ok, so the dog’s name wasn’t really “Fluffy,” but to be honest, all small furry dogs are sort of “Fluffy” to me. Just like all California blondes are Jennys. Although I can’t think of a single blonde name Jenny now. That is really unfortunate, blogally speaking.

“I’m not afraid of her,” I reassured her, pushing my chair back and worrying that I was accidentally going to roll over Fluffy. “It just startled me.”

“It?” She asked, clearly offended.
“What?”
“She’s a girl.”
Yes, aren’t we all.

By this point, judging from the shrieks coming from down the hall, Fluffy made her way to other offices. Her owner, I mean, “mother”, went to reassure the other office occupants/shame them into admitting lack of Fluffy Fear.

The day went slowly for me. For some reason, I was anxious about where Fluffy was, where she was going, what she was plotting. I was afraid that she would run out into the elevator, that I would sit on her, step on her, make a copy of her on the Xerox machine. The only moment of peace I had was when I closed my office door and then I’d hear her rodent-like paws scratching at the door. I could not wait to go home.

The woman who brought Fluffy thought that Fluffy was a great asset to our office. At some point, I overheard her telling a co-worker that dogs are therapeutic and lower blood pressure. Since at that very moment I was having a mini stroke about Fluffy’s whereabouts since the last time I saw her was near our high-rise open window, I found the claims of Fluffy as a hypertension-buster really hard to swallow.

I went home early that day, emotionally drained.
As I was waiting for the bus to go home, I got a call from my friend from the office who had the best news. Fluffy just left. After she peed all over our lobby. I don’t know about blood pressure, but I am certain that her bladder pressure was lowered.