Yogi and Teddy hang out in one of their favorite spots: In front of Jan Stevenson's office. BTL photo: Tara Cavanaugh
When interviewing people for this issue's story about people who bring their pets to work, some pet owners who were also business owners limited the number of dogs that employees could bring. Because it turned into a "circus," they said, if more than a couple of employees brought in their animals.
Here at the BTL offices, we have a circus.
We usually have five dogs in the office, but sometimes we have even more. And often, it is kind of a circus: When FedEx delivers, when a new guest shows up and especially when we all crowd into the break room for lunch: the dogs fill up all the free floor space, tails wagging, waiting for scraps and making it nearly impossible to safely leave the room (which is probably some sort of fire hazard).
Every Wednesday, the big garage connected to our office is filled and emptied of fresh BTL papers that our distributors pick up. The semi-truck accessible garage door opens no less than a dozen times that day, and it makes an awful racket. Well, it would anyway, if you could hear it beneath the sound of howling dogs, every one of them making clear their discontent with the heinous noise by adding to it themselves.
Aside from lunchtime and Wednesdays, you'd hardly know the dogs were here, unless you tripped on one who was knocked out cold on the floor, twitching in the throes of deep sleep. That's right. For the most part, our circus is a sleepy one. The dogs, thoroughly bored by our collective obsession with staring at computer screens, tend to entertain themselves with the back of their eyelids.
Sometimes if we're lucky, they'll indulge in our company a bit and give us some attention: they'll stop by individual offices to say hi, sniff around for crumbs, enjoy a vigorous ear or belly rub, or curl up near space heaters under desks. They know who's most likely to have snacks in the trash and whose office is warmest. They're smart like that.
They also seem to be freakishly aware of the exact moment someone needs a distraction from a computer screen or frustration-diffusing dog kisses. How do they know? It's kind of a magical mystery. Which every circus is full of.
We love our circus. And every one of us in the office would have it no other way. Except, maybe on Wednesdays. And during lunch.
