Let me explain how we got here.
Earlier today…
there was a situation.
A stranger approached the house.
There was movement.
There were sounds.
There was… paperwork.
I took action.
I alerted.
I warned.
I escalated appropriately.
Management’s response?
“Relax.”
Relax.
And that is when I knew…
this “city house” organization no longer values my contributions.
Also—while we’re discussing concerns—
stranger people keep coming to this house.
They walk through.
They look at things.
They touch things.
Things that were very clearly
not previously up for discussion.
And again…
paperwork.
This does not happen at the lake.
Just noting that.
So today, I have made a decision.
I will be lying in bed.
Not my bed.
That would suggest cooperation.
Their bed.
“Why would the Wonderdog lie in bed all day?” you ask.
Because I am on strike.
Until management learns to take my very real, very serious security concerns seriously…
I will be doing no dog things.
I will not sit on my section of the sectional.
(My assigned post. Abandoned.)
I will sit wherever I want.
Including restricted zones.
I will not lie on my bed.
Or in my house.
Those are for team players.
I will lie on management’s bed.
Where the pillows are much better,
but the decisions that led me here remain questionable.
I will not eat meals.
Meals are part of the system.
I will eat snacks only.
Secretly, furtively.
And if you see me eating a snack…
no you didn’t.
I will not be participating when danger approaches.
No alerts.
No barking.
No heroic hallway sprints.
Strangers may enter.
At this point, I assume they were invited.
They may take whatever they want.
(For the love of bacon-they already are.)
Today…
I am lying on management’s bed.
Uninvited.
Unbothered.
Re-evaluating my role in this “city house” organization.
And I am on strike.
Until further notice.
Or until someone admits
that the situation earlier…
—with the stranger,
the touching,
and the paperwork—
was, in fact,
a situation.
And if the sectional disappears next…
just know—
I saw it coming.
I warned you.
I documented it.
And I will be taking my talents,
my snacks,
and my unmatched security expertise…
to the lake house—
where the birds are suspicious,
the squirrels are clearly plotting,
and whatever that thing was by the water
at least didn’t carry paperwork.
Also—
no one there ever tells me to “relax.”
Out there, it’s not used… incorrectly.
🐾 Sassy The Wonderdog
If you made it this far, we’re basically on the same side of this dispute.
No spam. No Nonsense. Just stories.
Third Act With Pattie 