At lunch I fixed some nice chile rellenos with lots of smelly cheese, and Berkeley decided to join me in the kitchen instead of chasing after Willow or attempting to raid Cheryl's collection of yarn stuff. It's amazing how much she is captivated by food, especially when a tiny piece of roasted almond accidentally comes her way. It's easy for me to believe that I am her hero and best friend ever.
Later it was back to work. I enjoy working at home, but sometimes I'm forced to have phone meetings, and sometimes, like today, the meetings go on and on.
The little princess Berkeley likes sitting in the office at my feet, where she is usually a good girl. We take lots of breaks (I can't work myself to death, can I?), go for walks, play music, practice our commands, and so on. My attention span is not unlike a puppy's.
On my phone meetings I can't see my clients (sitting there in some sad office) and they can't see me (sitting here in my shorts and T-shirt with two dogs), but we see the same computer screen. Today I watched as they used my software and I explained some new features. Do this. Then do this. Boring...
At about 3:00 Berkeley grew impatient with those invisible voices in the air, so she started to chew on my table leg. She knows this is wrong. I corrected her in a whisper--away from the phone--and immediately I knew it was a mistake. Whispers don't carry much weight with her. She started chewing harder. I tried to bend over and pull her away but smacked my head on the desk.
NO NO NO, I said suddenly and with some force, and the meeting went silent for several seconds.. I looked up and the computer screen wasn't moving.
"Sorry," I said into the phone, "I didn't mean you. I have a puppy here and..."
No answer. Then Berkeley barked. They laughed and we actually had a fun conversation for a few minutes.
"Do you mind," I asked, "my puppy needs to go outside for a break. Could we continue this another time?" No problem, they answered.
Puppies are a powerful thing.