Stupid Dog. Clever Man.
When the internet is busy being offended, someone still has to dogsit the dog.
“It’s your turn to take the dog today,” my wife reminded me.
I gasped. “Why can’t we just hire a nanny for him?”
“No, I can’t trust people. They are dog thieves.”
She tied the leash to my hand and strapped the dog’s food in the tiffin box on his head.
“You just don’t know how to get things done, sweetheart. You need to learn so that we don’t have to carry the dog everywhere,” I said.
“Tell this to your boss. Maybe then he will finally promote you,” my wife teased, handing me the car keys and asking me to get lost.
I shook my head as I saw the leash in my hands. I had to end this teasing and dog sitting problem once and for all.
⸻
As I entered the office building, I saw a friendly face approaching me.
“Hey there,” he said.
“I hate the internet,” I told the man immediately.
He was offended.
Even more than my dog, who prefers binging Animal Channels all day on the sofa.
“Get off the sofa and do something fruitful!” I yelled as I saw him sitting there.
The offended man quickly got up.
My dog didn’t budge even a bit.
Stupid dog. Clever Man.
⸻
The man made sweeping arm gestures, pulled out his phone, clicked my picture, and vomited his emotions onto the internet:
“Silly guy in my office thinks he is smarter than the internet.’
I wrinkled my nose with disgust, pulled out my phone, and commented before anyone else on his post: ‘Smart, Enlightened guy. Not silly.’
The offended man shook his head and vomited more emotions below my comment.
Other comments followed. All supporting the man.
I knew most of them. Angry, bitter colleagues.
I left the man with my dog and went to a room.
When I returned after a few hours, my dog was binging the thousands of comments posted on the man’s post.
I inserted my finger in my ear and scratched my earhole, blocking my disturbing levels of ear wax.
“You ok, man?” I asked my dog.
The man waved his thumb without lifting his eye from the phone.
My dog didn’t bother.
Stupid dog. Clever Man.
⸻
I leaned over and peeked at the man’s phone.
“That’s harsh,” I said.
The man looked up at me, smirked without lifting his fingers, and went back to his replies.
I excused myself from my dog and went inside the room again.
When I returned, my dog was licking the man’s ears and head, which looked red from the outburst.
I rushed towards them and offered water. To my dog.
“Look at your tongue. It’s all dry and red,” I said.
“How many times do I have to tell you to not lick shit?”
The man dismissed me with a headshake.
The dog raised his head and slurped the water.
“Is it ok if I come back in some time? I got some work to do. Hope you take care of him,” I asked my dog.
The man yawned as he pushed out his thumb without raising his head from the phone.
My dog yawned and stretched himself on the sofa.
Stupid dog. Clever Man.
⸻
When I returned after a few hours, it was time for the sun and us to go home.
I looked at the offended man and my dog.
Both were sleeping on the sofa, curled against each other.
It was so cute. So I clicked a picture.
“Hey, are you ok man?” I woke up the man.
“I was tired of replying to the comments. Never realized when I dozed off,” the man said.
“Hmm,” I gave him a blank look and kept waking up the dog.
“Dude, it’s time to go home. The office is over.”
“Is it already?” The man looked shocked as he checked his watch.
“Yeah,” I nodded.
“Man, I had to submit the report today to the boss.” He looked worried.
“Yeah, I know. That’s why I told you it’s harsh. But you didn’t care. It’s harsher when you ignore the boss’s message as well.”
The man quickly checked the message he had ignored. “Shit. Did he ask about me? I hope you didn’t tell him the truth,” the man asked.
“Oh yes, the boss asked. But I didn’t say a word about you.” I shrugged. “He kept on badgering me, asking about you. But still I didn’t say a word. I promise.” I touched my head to show I wasn’t lying. “Instead, I brought him here without uttering a word. But I guess you were tired–along with my dog.”
The man’s eyes popped out.
He was sweating like a dog. But not like my dog. He had already wiped off his sweat all day on the office sofa.
I freed my dog from the leash I had secretly attached to the man’s belt.
I was confident the offended man wouldn’t move from the sofa till people kept him angry and hooked on the phone.
“Thanks man. For looking after my dog all day,” I smiled.
“You are a good man. And my wife thinks all people are dog thieves. I told her she doesn’t know how to get work done. Maybe that’s why she never got promoted to the managerial position.”
The man smiled, still sweating profusely. He then paused the smiling, wrinkled his brows, and asked: “Wait, but even you are not a manager yet.”
I gasped as I shook my head. I walked towards the man and cradled his arms. “Sorry, I forgot to tell you. The boss asked you to continue debating my silliness from your home from tomorrow. In short, you are fired.”
I pinched my lips together as I tapped his shoulders again. “And FYI, he appointed me as the new manager, replacing you. Now my assistant will dog sit this dog from my cabin.” I petted my dog.
The man started sweating profusely — and so did all the people who had been barking at me on his post all day.
My dog got worried for a second. But then he wagged his tail happily, ready to slurp every angry, bitter soul dry.
I pulled out my phone and posted the cute picture of the man, along with my dog, curled up against each other. ‘Silly Man fired After He tried to Act Clever.’ I posted.
Instant comments followed — mostly from the same happy and bitter colleagues who had been barking at me since morning.
I messaged my wife telling her how I got promoted as well as solved the dog sitting problem for life.
Stupid Dog. Clever Man.