Quitting and My Dog



Photo by Adam Griffith on Unsplash

Don’t get me wrong. While this is a super cute dog in the photo, it’s certainly not mine. I can’t seem to get a good pic of my dog where he isn’t splayed out like some playboy in a smoking jacket who forgot he wasn’t wearing briefs underneath. My dog’s name is Sanders, but you might as well call him Freeloading, Leeching, and Entitled-Ass Shadow (FLEAS).

Me quitting my job was the best thing possible for my dog. He avoids the kennel time he once endured if I was away from the house for long (nowadays, I am never away from the house for long). He gets to use me as a pillow for his daily 23-hour naps as I’m researching and writing for my blog, whether or not that is comfortable or convenient for me (it’s hard to type with a hind paw kicking me in the side at regular intervals). He never has to wait very long to go out and do his business because in the days since my work resignation, he’s trained me to be right there on demand to let him out the door. Now that Mom eats lunch at home, FLEAS can deploy the pitiful starving stare and usually get a treat of some sort, too.

I know other work-from-home pup parents have their own FLEAS, or sometimes several. I don’t know if there is an oral dog newsletter where they share their secrets for keeping their now-home parents home forever. Still, I deeply suspect it’s tied to the dread many workers face as workplaces open back up and demand their employees return to a physical workplace. How can we possibly return to a workplace devoid of puppy snuggles (hint, your professional workplace should probably be snuggle-free for other reasons) and leave poor FLEAS at home all alone?

If you’ve been working from home, what’s your plan for breaking it to your pets when you have to return to the office?

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