Released from Gizmo

Any of you that have dealt with me in-person have likely noticed that my use of vocabulary is a bit... non-standard, shall we say. One big reason for this is that I am quite wary of giving my word on anything non-trivial, because, when I do, I will do my utmost to fulfill that word, both in letter and spirit, and consequences be damned (in the words of Super Chicken, I knew the job was dangerous when I took it, that sort of thing)... which just doesn't fit well with the laid-back and essentially lazy lifestyle I try to maintain.

A few months back, I mentioned the peculiar arrangement made with my boss in keeping one of his puppies on as Office Puppy. That came to a breaking point today, when his caregiver confronted me as to, basically, whose dog is it really, and what would happen should she get laid off, that sort of thing... and the truthful answer was that I was the owner, the dog would likely stay at the office, etc., etc. Of course, in the intervening timeframe, she had grown attached to the dog, as had her family, didn't like that I was dictating decisions on "her" dog, etc., etc... that conversation ended with her stating that if it was my dog, I needed to take care of it, and she left the office in a huff.

With reluctance, I started planning what this would mean for life at my house... free-for-alls between the 6lb puppy and whichever 12lb cat it tangled with, coaxing cats from hiding places, constant letting the dog in and out for potty breaks, crating the dog at night so the cats couldn't gang up on it while I was asleep, if I could even sleep through their attempts... not pleasant, but technically doable. Of course, the in-office atmosphere would be irreparably tainted too, and pretty well guaranteed not in my favor... but what could I do, short of going back on my word to shepherd the critter through puppyhood, thus making sure it got the "right start" in life?

There was only one out for me... and something that still tears at me as I write this, several hours later. When my boss finally made it into the office late this afternoon, I explained what had happened earlier, and formally asked to be released from my word. Luckily, he knows me well enough to know that I was serious, and promptly granted my request, whereupon I immediately went to Gizmo's caregiver, asked her if she wanted him, formally gave him to her, then left the office for the rest of the day. I know it was the right thing for the office, and I hope it was the right thing for Gizmo... I can only hope it won't haunt me for too terribly long.