Dennis-the-Vizsla should be writing this post (see Dennis’ Diary of Destruction), but I will try to tell the story in people language. There’s more awful dog legislation being proposed, one of my friends is being run out of her neighborhood because of her dogs, I have a case that has blossomed to a couple thousand pages of medical documents, I have an out of town client whose sister is trying to convince me to send her many thousands of his dollars . . . you get the picture? So, as a consequence, the top of my desk is covered with little piles of paper. Each pile relates to a particular issue — that’s a good plan — it keeps me somewhat organized.
Today I was expecting a consultant so I was copying some documents for her. She showed up half an hour early. Chase-puppy is today’s office dog (Yep! Same dog that ate my cell phone). Because of his penchant for leaping onto my desk, I had moved my guest chairs pretty far out into the room. The consultant came in, greeted the puppy, pulled up a chair — Oh, nuts! Before she could sit, he seized upon the opportunity, leapt onto the chair and then onto the desk. Because he was hurrying, he landed without his usual finesse and he cleared the surface. The neat piles were all jumbled together on the floor. Marge thought it was funny and was laughing her head off, the bad dog started whirling around on the desk because he was the star, the copier jammed, the phone rang.
I AM SO GLAD IT IS FRIDAY!