We're trying an experiment. Parker is spending the whole day at Inner Drive Technology World Headquarters.
Also, just because this came out the way it did, I challenge
both all of my readers to provide an appropriate thought balloon for the hardly-working office puppy:
I must say, also, that the experiment has gone very well today. So far, he has barked precisely once, and that was because I had a raisin bran muffin that he felt was rightfully his. He lets me go out of the office now (before he would whine as soon as the door closed), and none of our neighbors even knows he's around until they see him. The landlord, Charlie, also doesn't know Parker is here, more to the point, though on the two occasions when we've run into him in the atrium in the past week, Charlie has also expressed surprise at how quiet and well-behaved Parker is.
Charlie has not seen my office rug, of course. He might have a different opinion if he did.
Cintas, a uniform company (they make and launder uniforms for nurses, security guards, etc.), has decided to follow a DHS proposal—it doesn't have the force of law—that encourages employers to fire workers who have Social Security-number mismatches or in other ways fail to re-verify that they are authorized to work in the U.S. The effect of this action will be to intimidate immigrant workers, legal or not, and help them keep their payroll costs down.
The thing is, this is none of the company's business. The affected workers may have legal problems with the IRS or with ICE, but for all practical purposes this doesn't affect the company one way or the other. I don't think Cintas can make a straight-faced claim that the legal status of a minimum-wage seamstress or launderer threatens their business. On the other hand, if their workers worry that in addition to having an expensive and frightening experience with Immigration they also might lose their jobs, they'll be a lot less likely to agitate for a living wage or safe working conditions.
One of my long-standing clients, a labor-rights organization, has documented so many of Cintas' anti-worker policies (starting with poverty wages) that this is really only the latest, not the worst. So if you ever have to rent uniforms for your business, don't use Cintas.
Our ivy looks cool, so I thought I'd share.
We have a routine. At 5:30 every morning, Parker dances on my head, and I shove him back to the foot of the bed. At 5:45, the alarm clock starts playing Morning Edition, and Parker dances on my head again. Flash forward to 6:30, and we're at the dog park, usually all three of us, where Parker has a tremendously fun time with all the other dogs.
Then we head back to the house. He's a pretty smart dog, and he can tell when we're getting ready for work. Sometimes Parker gets locked in the bedroom, but other times he comes to the office with me. I believe he has not only a strong preference, but also an understanding that not every day is an Office Puppy day:
Sorry, P-Dog. Today I have to meet with people, so he has to stay in the bedroom. Don't worry, though: two liver treats softened the blow.
I've managed to stanch the bleeding from today's server crash, but sadly I only have enough brain power left to phone in today's Daily Parker. This "Flying Nun" look is awfully cute, though:
At the moment, he's asleep on my office floor, right next to the slightly-chewed part of the carpet. But it's time to go to the dog park, so I think I'll have to wake him up.
I am not happy today.
My company's Exchange server, which handles all of our email, crashed in a maddening fashion. Apparently the server's security database got damaged when the server rebooted after a critical update. The only way to fix it is to rebuild the server. This requires building another server first, so that our Websites don't go down in the interim. It's going to take us probably three days to fix the problem, partially because we've got client work to deliver before we can really care about the email outage.
In related news, I'm reading a new book:
The dog is criminally adorable. During Studio 60 last night, first he helped with the laundry:
Then he disemboweled a plush toy:
(We're not sure why half of him slid off the couch, but he's not sure either.)
Wow, did we have an exhausting weekend. Anne had to go out of town, so Parker and I had a "boys night out" with one of my business partners. Only, when my colleague and I first planned to get together over beer and ribs (our traditional "BNO" activity), he had completely forgotten about the pumpkin-carving party at his home. Change of plans: Parker dutifully got into the car and off we went to my colleague's house, where he and his wife were entertaining seven two-year-olds and their parents.
I forgot my camera.
Too bad, too, because Parker loved the kids, loved my friends, and kept a respectful distance from their two Labradors. The adults stayed up past midnight, and for reasons completely lost on Parker and the other toddlers, some of us decided to stay there for the night.
So, after a day at the office, two trips to the dog park, and meeting a large and screaming handful of Parker-sized humans, this is the result all day yesterday:
Before sleeping on the pillow, he was under it for a moment, which only lasted until I went to get my camera. The moral of all this is, of course, always have a camera around the dog.
Today we're catching up on four-week-old Netflix movies, a pile of magazines, and needed sleep. Parker has accompanied me throughout the apartment, giving me a new understanding of the phrase "puppy dogging." Same thing yesterday. I went into the lab at one point and less than thirty seconds elapsed before Parker repositioned his nap closer to me:
It's really adorable, but I expect it wastes a lot of energy (which is maybe why he's napping?). I get up, cross the room, and he watches to make sure I'm not going anywhere else. Living room to get another magazine? Prairie-dogging over the couch. Washroom down the hall? Fifteen-second pause, then follows. Kitchen? Arrives before I do.
And as an added bonus, while I was typing this entry, the adorable puppy curled up in a ball at my feet just pooted.
Parker, ecstatic not to spend the morning in a crate, has transformed himself into a model office pooch today:
Of course, the chewie probably helps: