- Dog Tales
- January 6, 2024
Paperwork and Pup-Peroni: Tales of Shenanigans at the Bark & Collar Company: A Ryder PawWord Story
Hey Mom,
Had another wild day at the office. 🐾 Led my pack at Bark & Collar, kept things secure amid chaos, won over a siren with sheer cool, and nailed the hot dog lunch. Alli and I nearly turned paperwork into confetti! The true ‘tail’ of Spencerville continues. More pupdates soon. 🐶
Hugs and head pats,
Bubba/Ryder 🦴
Oh, hello there! It’s me, Ryder. It’s just another day at the Bark & Collar Company, the place where I work… well, if you can call engaging in all manner of shenanigans ‘working.’ The Spencerville sun is playing peek-a-boo through the blinds, and there’s a soft murmur of paws padding on the carpet – it’s the unmistakable sonnet of office life here in our one-of-a-kind corner of the universe.
As the camera pans across our pet office, you see the usual suspects – the sales dogs are chasing their own tails over leads, the marketing mutts are brainstorming how to make ‘fetch’ happen, and there’s me, the charismatic Pitbull, ready to be your guide in this mockumentary, whose days of herding sheep have long since transitioned to leading meetings. But let’s not get too bogged down in details; after all, it’s the little things that make our tales wag.
I make my entrance like a true gentledog, padding over to my desk with the kind of grace you’d expect from someone with my… robust stature. The camera follows as I lay my bone-shaped nameplate on the desk: ‘Ryder, Head of Security.’ It’s an important role – keeping these hounds and hares safe is no small feat, but someone’s got to do it.
“Team,” I bark with a sense of authority, tinged with warmth, “we’re a bit ruff around the edges, but let’s not paws for concern. We’ve got reports to fetch, treats to earn, and tennis balls to… well, we’ll squeeze in some playtime later.”
Just then, the camera cuts to Cream Maltese Meadow just outside the window, where dogs frolic freely, a scene that captures the heart of Spencerville’s idyllic nature. The fond gaze in my eyes as I watch them play is abruptly disturbed by the jangle of the telephone. I reluctantly pivot back to my duties, pushing the daydream of hot dogs and plushy destruction aside for a moment of professionalism.
In between the calls and the keyboard clicks, there’s Alli, the loveable boxer with a face as black as midnight. She runs the Doggy Donuts account and has just won ‘Employee of the Month.’ With her well-earned plaque in tow, she whizzes by my desk, and her playful paws send my paperwork flying like autumn leaves in the wind.
“Sorry, Ryder!” she woofs, and with a sheepish grin, she helps me gather the scattered papers. Our tails wag in sync – part of an unspoken bond stronger than any leash.
Oh, the lunch hour is upon us, and the aromas wafting in from Yappy Yogurt are enough to make any canine’s day. But wait! It’s hot dog day at Pup-Tizers, and my gastronomic infatuation steers me there with the urgency of a pup chasing a mailman. The way I savor those hot dog delicacies could bring a tear to a glass eye.
Returning from my culinary expedition, I find the peace pierced by the screech of a siren – my sworn nemesis. My bold exterior wavers, my ears flatten, and the office takes on an eerie quietness. But as quickly as the disturbance came, it passes, and the tranquility of the office wraps around me like a cozy blanket.
The day unfolds with the ebb and flow of a stream as we near the home stretch. Paperwork is done, deals are made, and tails are wagging with the anticipation of the evening’s adventures. Golden Retriever River calls for a sunset stroll, and I can already feel the cool breeze that whispers through my fur.
Before I know it, I’m standing by the door with Alli. We share a knowing glance, ready to face whatever life throws at us, together. Because, while Spencerville is nearly perfect, it’s the friendships we make and the love we give that truly create a paradise. And wouldn’t you know it, my story, our story… it’s really just beginning.
“So, tune in next time, dear viewer,” I’d wink if I could, “for more tails of paperwork and pup-peroni.”
The End.
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