Since I started working from home two years ago, the dogs have become my co-workers.
Since I started working from home two years ago, the dogs have become my co-workers. We eat together, take breaks together and more importantly, they remind me when it's time to go for a walk.
Even though they have bodies of a mature 13-year-old dog, their spirit is that of a puppy. They still like to play tug of war, chase squirrels and catch Frisbees although 30 minutes of outside time means napping for the rest of the afternoon. Our black lab insists on having the Frisbee in his mouth even though he can no longer run and catch it as his hips continuously fail him and his back legs seem to have a mind of their own.
The dogs think they're human and insist on being in whatever room we're in, which in the home office, means I'm stepping over two 90 pound dogs every time I get up out of my chair. Typically one is under the desk while the other lays close by waiting for his turn to take this favorite position. They are more than dogs, they're our children.
They're on more medicine than we are for thyroid, allergies and unfortunately pain pills for the lab as he struggles to walk but insists on keep going. The highlight of their day is when I finally say OK after they've been begging to go for a walk. If I don't keep to the scheduled time, they sit, stare and whimper. Their internal clocks are spot on and if I don't know it's time, they do.
We go the same route every day although lately we've had to take a detour. The next door neighbors, (really not next door when 10 acres separate us) have four dogs who've decided it's a good idea to chase our dogs up and down the fence. It wouldn't be that big of a deal except that at 13, or in dog years, 91 years of age, running a long distance has its consequences. For the retriever it was a torn ligament in his knee and for the lab, this much running means limping around for days.
The younger dogs were out, barking to come to the fence to play chase and I was trying my best to convince my dogs we were going a different direction this time. It didn't work and before I knew it the chase was on. The retriever did his run and then decided he was done and joined me on the detour. After a few minutes, and the lab didn't return, I told the retriever we better go check. Before I could even get the words out of my mouth, the retriever was off to save his brother who was losing a fight to the neighbor's dog.
Somehow the younger dog got through the fence and for whatever reason decided to fight our dog that can barely stand. Luckily we have an in-house vet and even though she's on maternity leave after having my grandson, it was determined we could doctor him at home with deep lacerations on his head, neck and underarm.
He didn't ask to go for a walk for a week so I know it scared him but what's even more upsetting is it's not just the dogs that are fighting now.
There's a lot of testosterone flying around making quite a buzz. Apparently you don't mess around with a man's best friend.