Dog Diary — The Month I Became Head of Household Operations

Working Title: “Sara: Still Supervising, Still Beautiful, Still Not Washing Herself”

Mission: Be Involved In Everything. Supervise Everyone. Remain Beautiful.

Status: Mission accomplished with exceptional levels of interference.

I have been meaning to speak to you for some time.

There has been a serious breakdown in household administration.

The Woman... stopped writing my diary.

For weeks.

My fans were left without updates.

People were presumably sitting around wondering what I had been doing, whether I was well, whether I had been sufficiently admired, and most importantly, whether the humans were still meeting the required standards of Sara care.

Naturally, I fired her.

Unfortunately, after an extensive recruitment process, I discovered there were no suitable replacements.

Apparently, most applicants lacked opposable thumbs.

So I was forced to rehire her.

She lives in my house anyway, so it seemed like the most practical arrangement.

I have put her on a performance improvement plan.

Luke-Man's Birthday

Luke-man had a birthday!

Naturally, I was front and centre for the celebrations.

I assisted with the opening of his presents because birthdays are very exciting and someone needs to make sure the birthday person is sufficiently supported.

I sniffed the presents. I inspected the wrapping paper.

I remained extremely close to Luke-man throughout the entire process.

Unfortunately, Diary, there was a serious flaw in his choice of birthday cake.

Chocolate.

I was unable to participate.

I would like to make it clear that this was not my fault.

The humans knew chocolate was not suitable for me, so instead they gave me my favourite carob treats while they ate their cake.

This was acceptable. Not the same, but acceptable.

I sat beside Luke-man while he celebrated, enjoying my carob and reminding him that birthdays are better when Sara is involved.

The Great Two-Week Household Renovation

Then something extraordinary happened - both humans took two whole weeks off work.

Two weeks. Fourteen days.

I cannot tell you how exciting this was.

The humans seemed to think they were taking time off to get things done around the house.

They were mistaken.

And because I am the household supervisor, naturally I was involved in everything.

Everywhere they went, I went. Everywhere they worked, I supervised. Everyday brought a new adventure.

There were tradesmen.

The plumber arrived.

I assisted.

The electrician arrived.

I assisted.

The man who came to replace the window screens arrived.

I assisted.

The humans went to Bunnings.

I assisted. 

I have now been to Bunnings so many times that I believe I should be receiving staff discounts.

There were boxes to move, cupboards to clean, things to inspect and mysterious household objects appearing and disappearing. 

I was extremely helpful.

I was there for all of it.

The humans were very busy.

I was even busier.

The Woman decided to replace the hanging blinds.

The old blinds had become far too comfortable in their position and required firm guidance before being removed.

I made sure they understood who was in charge.

And when the Woman finally started putting up the new blinds, I made an executive decision.

I would stand directly in front of her.

She tried to move.

I moved with her.

She tried to reach around me.

I repositioned myself.

Eventually she realised the only acceptable arrangement was for one of her hands to remain physically attached to me at all times while she worked.

Much better.

I don't understand why humans insist on making household improvements without consulting their emotional support supervisor.

The old blinds, incidentally, needed to understand that their time had come to an end.

I assisted with this transition by making sure they knew I was not emotionally attached to them.

The new blinds have been informed that they are expected to perform considerably better.

My Newest Fashion Accessory

One day I was alone in the bedroom when the Woman heard a strange noise. 

She came to investigate.

And there I was. Wearing her lunch bag.

Diary, I don't know why she found this surprising.

It was clearly an accessory.

I had discovered the bag, placed it around my neck and was prancing around the bedroom as though I had just stepped onto the runway at Paris Fashion Week.

There was no food inside.

But there was potential.

The Woman checked that I was safe, then, quite rightly, took a photograph for the archives.

I believe the fashion world will eventually recognise what happened that day.

I was ahead of my time.

A Slight Medical Interruption

There has been one slightly less glamorous development.

I developed another small skin infection.

Nothing like the dreadful skin problems I experienced before, but the vet decided antibiotics were needed. The Woman was not particularly happy about this.

Not because she doesn't want me healthy.

Obviously she does.

But she has been working very hard to get my stomach and skin settled, and antibiotics have a tendency to interfere with the delicate ecosystem inside my magnificent little body.

Fortunately, the wonderful people at the Rescue sent me special probiotics designed to be given alongside antibiotics.

The humans were very grateful.

I was mostly interested in whether the probiotics came with snacks.

Apparently, my gut health is very important.

I agree.

My gut and I have a close working relationship.

The Woman has also made a rather important discovery about my legendary licking.

For a long time, everyone thought I simply had a terrible habit.

But the Woman has noticed that my licking tends to become particularly intense after I eat.

The humans now suspect that I may experience reflux or some sort of discomfort while my body is processing food.

And when dogs need to produce lots of saliva quickly... apparently we lick.

So I lick....

The floor, the walls, blankets, the lounge, the humans... Anything within range.

And, most dangerously, I lick my front legs. This is where things become problematic.

The vet has repeatedly warned the humans that if I lick my legs enough, I could create wounds.

And apparently lick wounds are extremely difficult to deal with.

So the humans are now taking preventative measures.

I get a little something called kefir with my meals to help support my gut and hopefully settle the reflux. I also enjoy a delicious apple and blueberries most nights as well. It has made a considerable difference.

I am still licking. But less.

And now I have special probiotics alongside my antibiotics.

The Woman is taking this extremely seriously.

I am taking it seriously too.

Mostly.

The Bathing Situation

The vet also told the Woman that I need to be washed more frequently.

The Woman looked at him in a way that he immediately said he wasn't being "judgy". 

Apparently this was a very important conversation because they both ended up laughing when the vet admitted that his own dog only gets washed about once a year.

Diary...

I have questions.

Why am I being subjected to regular baths when the vet's dog apparently enjoys an annual bathing schedule?

I feel there is a double standard here.

Then came another unexpected consequence of the household renovations.

The humans had a new bath faucet installed.

The Woman went to give me a bath using my usual washing attachment and discovered that the new faucet wouldn't connect to it.

For one glorious moment, I thought:

I HAVE WON.

Unfortunately, the humans quickly discovered they didn't actually need the attachment.

Instead...

I had my first shower in the human shower.

The humans, however, were delighted because apparently there was considerably less water everywhere afterwards.

I was less enthusiastic.

But I survived.

And, importantly, I have not discovered how to open the shower door (wink wink), the humans are extremely grateful for this.

Some information is best kept confidential.

The Great Return To Routine

After two glorious weeks of having the humans permanently available for work avoidance, household renovations, cuddles and Bunnings excursions, the humans returned to work.

And I returned to my normal schedule.

Which is to say... sleeping all day in their queen-sized bed.

It had been waiting for me.

And now that the humans are back at work, I am once again able to spend most of my day exactly where a retired lady of my status should be:

under the blankets.

Sleeping. Warm. Cosy.

Dreaming of important things. Possibly rabbits. Possibly carob. Possibly the next Bunnings trip.

I have been on many walks around the block and plenty of headland adventures whenever the weather allows. 

The world remains a fascinating place.

There are smells to investigate.

Grass to inspect.

People to greet.

Dogs to acknowledge.

And an entire neighbourhood that needs to be regularly reminded that Sara is still here.

My tail remains extremely busy.

Looking back over the past month, I have to admit I've been rather busy.

I've been a birthday assistant.

A Bunnings regular.

A renovation supervisor.

A plumber's assistant.

An electrician's assistant.

A blind installation consultant.

A laundry and lunch-bag fashion model.

A medical patient.

A gut-health experiment.

A shower guinea pig.

And, of course, the undisputed manager of this household.

But underneath all the silliness, something important has happened too.

The humans have spent the last eight months learning what makes me comfortable.

They watch my skin. They watch my ears.

They notice when I lick.

They notice when my tummy isn't quite right.

They take me to the vet when something changes.

They change my food. They give me supplements.

They bathe me, despite my vocal objections.

They moisturise me. They put socks on my legs when they need to protect me from myself.

And when something isn't working, they keep trying.

I think that is what makes this retirement rather special.

I am an old girl.

I have a complicated medical history.

My skin has been through years of damage.

I have lumps that the humans keep an eye on.

I have good days and occasional not-so-good days.

But I also have a warm bed and two humans who think I am magnificent.

Regular walks.

Bunnings adventures.

Carob.

A lunch bag.

And enough confidence to interfere with every single household activity.

Eight months ago, I was simply trying to feel comfortable.

Now I am busy managing an entire home.

Quite the promotion if I do say so myself.

End of Entry.

Mission Status:
Hiring Manager.
Healthy-ish.
Extremely adored.
Still licking things.
Still running the household.

Sara

Queen of the Queen-Sized Bed
Birthday Party Assistant to Luke-Man
Senior Bunnings Consultant
Head of Household Renovations
Director of Blind Installation & Lunch Bag Fashion
Gut Health Research Specialist
Chief Human Supervision Officer
Retired Rescue Dog & Current Household Manager 🐾