Meet My New Boss. He’s Such a Good Dog.
Thomas Truffle
After more than two decades of remote work, the last thing I wanted was a structured daily schedule. But then I got a demanding new boss, who convinced me otherwise.
That boss’s name is Thomas Truffle, Esq., and he’s our family dog. In so many ways, Thomas has made me a happier, more efficient—and healthier—worker.
The thing about dogs is: They need to go out a lot. There’s the daily hourlong walk, as well as occasional 10-minute outings, all of which means I rarely schedule the kind of back-to-back-to-back meeting day that leaves me screen-weary and back-sore. I’ve tried every kind of electronic reminder to force myself to get up from my desk and stretch, but I always ignored the notifications. But there’s no ignoring Thomas when he needs to go out. This forces me to get up from my desk every few hours, which has done wonders for my lower back and for my productivity; it really is easier to think clearly and work longer when I take regular breaks.
Then there’s the social benefit: During my breaks, I can book calls only with someone who knows me well enough to be forgiving if our conversation is occasionally punctuated by “Thomas, leave it!” That means I speak more often with my closest colleagues and friends, which is energizing and replenishing for me as someone who can feel isolated by remote work. Plus there is the contagious happiness of Thomas himself, sniffing and wagging his way along the sidewalks and beach, reminding me that there are many delights in this world that don’t require a computer keyboard, or for that matter, an opposable thumb.
From morning to night
I also think about my workday differently. My morning is for focused work, interviews or other cameras-on calls. After lunch, in that hazy window when I used to tackle the random tasks that didn’t require too much of my waning attention, I usually take Thomas for a 3-mile walk through a patch of nearby woods and back along the ocean. With my attention reset, I can return to my desk for a genuinely useful second shift.
I even approach the end of the day differently. For one thing, you could set your watch by canine dinnertime anxiety: If 5:01 finds me and my husband still in our respective offices, the sound of Thomas pacing around his dog bowl will pry me away from my desk. Once the dog is fed, I often flop down on the sofa with my computer to do a little more work, chatting with my son while he’s gaming on his computer. In these moments, Thomas not-so-subtly reminds me that there are matters more important than an unsent invoice or an unanswered email: He climbs into my lap and lays his chin on my keyboard until I stop typing and give him an ear-scratch instead.
As a result, I have finally broken the habit of working until the last possible moment of the day, when I am suddenly so hungry and cranky that I absolutely can’t work another minute. Instead, I work more like Thomas, and get our dinner under way early enough that I stay in good humor (and often, get a second wind for a little after-dinner work). Or I prompt my husband to start on dinner by offering to take Thomas for a walk while he cooks.
Sweet spot
Unlike a 9-to-5 office day—or even an artificially imposed one, which many remote workers find comforting—working around Thomas’s needs has hit the sweet spot of providing some structure, without the chafing sense of an imposed demand. I get the focus-boosting and well-being benefits of a more predictable schedule, without the itchy feeling I get when a human tells me when or how long I need to stay at my desk.
The benefit of this judgment-free canine colleague is especially welcome on the days work hasn’t gone so well. If I have a frustrating call with a client or co-worker, Thomas is the instant antidote. I get up from my desk, and track Thomas down in his favorite chair or the end of our bed. He is always happy to see me, and he always wants a scratch or a cuddle. His unconditional affection is a great reminder that my professional output isn’t the sum total of my value as a human being.
Thomas has improved my image and relationships with human colleagues, too. Now that I have to keep my desk area scrupulously free of dirty dishes or used napkins (which Thomas would invariably try to steal and eat), my on-camera environment looks more professional. I have remote colleagues I have never met, but we have bonded by exchanging stories about the dogs who appear in the background of our video calls. And when it comes to wrapping up a meeting, “I think I hear the dog throwing up” is the ultimate, nonnegotiable hard out.
Thomas Truffle
When it comes to local colleagues near my Canadian home, Thomas is a networking powerhouse. I know cities where co-workers socialize over after-work drinks or midday lunches, but in Vancouver, co-workers often catch up over afternoon dog walks at the beach or park. Several of my closest collegial relationships are a result of how well our dogs get along, since that inspires us to get together more often.
Thomas doesn’t just make me a better colleague: He makes me a better wife and mother…or at least seem like one. On the afternoons where my husband has walked and fed the dog while I squeeze in a little more work, I find a happy and tired dog sitting in the living room, along with my husband and son.
“Hello, sweetheart,” I say to Thomas. My son and my husband each murmur happy greetings in response, assuming I was talking to them—and Thomas, ever the diplomat, says nothing to correct the record.
Alexandra Samuel is a technology researcher and co-author of “Remote, Inc.: How to Thrive at Work…Wherever You Are.” She can be reached at [email protected].
