When in doubt, wag.

At my new job, my boss seems to bring his dogs in on occasion. They are both golden retrievers, and their names are Gus and Sandy. Gus is the younger of the two—bouyant and breathy, often overwhelmed with joy at the mere presence of something to sniff. Sandy is a bit older, more pensive, better behaved and apparently more interested in my morning sesame bagel.

First of all, I love the concept of having dogs in the workplace (this hasn’t happened since I worked at a bar in Key West). It just makes the whole environment more comfortable. Without meaning to, dogs put things into perspective.

As I walked in on Friday morning, Gus and Sandy greeted me with trademark canine glee--their tails flying back and forth with the speed of windshield wipers in a Nor’easter. I really don't know if we humans are ever as happy as dogs are when someone (usually their owner) arrives at the door--it's as if they don't know what to do with themselves. Lacking any other alternatives to show their suffocating happiness, dogs wag their tails. Hard. Sometimes they shake their butt back and forth--wagging alone isn't enough to express their rapture. Anyway, I know many people that are greeted by this when they come home from work, but not many who receive such a regal welcome when they arrive at work. It's nice.

At intermittent points throughout the day, Gus nudges my elbow while I am working at my desk. I turn around I see him with a blue ball in his mouth. He huffs playfully, a bull ready for the charge, tail still wagging. Later, he comes by with a tousled, stuffed bear in his mouth--as if he is mining for my preferences in play. Again, his breath quickens. Given an impending project deadline (and a trenchant desire not to have my hands smell like dog breath), I don’t latch on—but for a second I look back and forth from the screen to the bear. I want to wrestle, but I pet him instead.

At breakfast and lunch, Sandy stands sullenly by my desk, watching and waiting. He’s staring at my food like it’s a treasure; as if its so beautiful it might make him cry. I don’t give him any food, but I want to. I put my hand on his head, and start scratching behind his ear. Dogs like that.

My new job isn’t all that stressful, but I’m still learning and have to meet pretty tight deadlines. So, there are times when I am wound a little too tightly. But when there’s a dog snorting next to you with a blue rubber ball or a sad, my-kingdom-for-your-bagel-scraps face, you can’t take what’s on your computer screen too seriously. You can’t take anything too seriously, actually.

I'm sure as I get a little more comfortable in my surroundings there, I'll have even more fun with Sandy and Gus. I'll tug at Gus's bear, and maybe Sandy'll do tricks for a bite of bagel. For now, I'm just happy that I work at a place where I'm learning things I want to learn, moving in a direction I want to move, and have a dog to pet occasionally.

Happy in the human way, yes.... but if I did have a tail, it'd be wagging.