- Dog Tales
- May 7, 2024
Whisker Workspace Woes: Tales of a Yorkie Leader in a Canine Corporate World: A Momo PawWord Story
Hey Mom,
Just led the pack through another tail-wagger of a day at Whisker Workspace – brainstormed toys, dodged tennis balls, and charmed a camera crew. I’m basically a CEO in fur. Meeting you at The Bone Appetit for snuggles later!
Licks and wags,
Momo 🐾✨
When you’re four pounds of Yorkshire Terrier charm in a world crafted for the eternally frolicsome, life tends to toss you more balls than you’ve got paws to catch them with. I, Momo, single-pawedly run the most pawsome division at Whisker Workspace Solutions – not to be confused with the human workspace. It’s much cozier, and the water cooler is always full of fresh, chilled chicken broth.
At Whisker Workspace, we specialize in chewable furniture (don’t knock it till you’ve tried it), ergonomic nap pods, and of course, the ever-popular scratch-and-stretch carpet tiles. Now, in Spencerville, every day is “Take Your Pet to Work Day,” except, in this case, we are the pets *and* we are the work.
Picture this: It’s a sun-drenched Monday morning, and the crew is trickling in. There’s Sir Fluffington, the Persian with an MBA in Nap Logistics, sashaying to his corner suite. Then comes Wally the Whippet, Head of Fast Track Sales – literally, he tracks fast, and he sells even faster.
I’m nestled in my office, the heart of the operation, surveying my kingdom from atop a pile of strategically placed cushions. The perfect vantage point for a dapper dog like myself. My deputy, a St. Bernard named Bernie (original, I know), is drooling on a spreadsheet, but he’s the best numbers guy I have.
The camera crew is here today – they’re making some sort of dogumentary. The humans lap this stuff up, like me with a slider on cheat day. They’re trying to be unobtrusive, but Penelope the Poodle’s primping every time she spots a lens. I suppose that’s reality TV for you.
My day involves doing the rounds, checking on projects – the usual managerial sniffing about. I’ve got to skirt around the obstacle course of the playroom because let’s face it, loud squeaks just don’t sit well with me. Like the time the squeaker department tested their products all day – I hid under a pile of sample doggie robes in the mock living room showroom. Nightmare fuel, I tell you.
Lunchtime rolls around, and it’s off to The Bone Appetit. The network executives lunching with me insist it’s the best spot for a working meal. I order my usual, a grilled chicken slider (tiny but mighty, much like myself), and they get the fish platter. It’s all very civilized.
Afternoons are for meetings, and today we’re brainstorming new chew toy designs. There’s a heated debate over kibble-flavored versus classic beef when suddenly, chaos unleashes. A dozen tennis balls bounce into the conference room.
Wally, that sly salesman, grins ear to ear, asking, “Market research?” Everybody’s barking and chasing and, well, doing exactly what you’d expect when tennis balls invade a dog office.
I, observing the mayhem, decide to do what any self-respecting Yorkie leader would do. I leap off my chair (it’s a dignified leap, thank you) and join the fray because some days, you’ve just got to roll with the furballs.
As the afternoon melts into early evening, the antics calm down. I find myself cuddled with my stuffed pickle, contemplating the day. I think about the joy, the laughter, and the undeniable sense of community we share here.
We may all be waiting for that grand reunion with our human families, but until then, we have Spencerville, Whisker Workspace, and each other. And really, as long as there are sliders, squeak-free toys, and a cozy lap to snuggle into, I’ve got all I need.
The End.
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