Bad Dog

I keep saying this, but it's true.  Work has been insanely busy.  I'm working long hours and handling more phone calls and questions lately in a day than I used to do in a week.    As a result, I've been letting a few things slide - including the occasional dog walk after work.

Last week, I skipped the Wednesday walk and then it poured rain on Thursday so we didn't go out again.  Friday morning, I was on a call.  I was talking to an analyst who wanted to implement a significant software change that afternoon, and I was trying to talk her off the ledge.  (I'm a Change Manager, FYI... I review and approve IT changes before they are made.)  In general, I don't like changes on Fridays because if they go wrong, there isn't anybody around on the weekend to fix them.  I especially dislike emergency changes on Fridays because less testing and planning has gone into them, so there's more chance of problems.    The worst of them all - and the one that seems to happen without fail - is the emergency change on Fridays before long weekends.  They drive me nuts.

So, I was on the phone with this analyst who was doing her best to convince me that her emergency software change had to go in on Friday afternoon before the vendor's long weekend.    I was reviewing the risk, talking about the testing that had happened and generally making sure that the she had her ducks in a row.

It was all very serious, and things can get intense when an emergency change is going in.  I don't think, however, that the analyst expected me to drop a very unprofessional F bomb.

Lucky for me, I was talking to somebody with whom I'd worked for about 5 years.  She knew it was very atypical for me to do that during work, so she didn't take offence.  Even better, she's got a great sense of humour, and thankfully saw the funny in this right away - long before I did.

You see, as I was talking to her and reading through the documentation provided, I happened to catch sight of a certain poodle in my peripheral vision.  I had thought she was asleep, but she was not.   No, she'd been lying quietly on the bed beside me and very strategically destuffing a $40 pillow.  White fluff was everywhere.

Tallulah has lost bed privileges for the foreseeable future.

But her nightly walks have been reinstated.

The emergency change went in as planned, and reports have confirmed that it was successful.

Even better, the analyst has promised to send me a new pillow.