In 2001 I began consulting. I had just got married and inherited my husband’s dogs, Maggie (the Dingo) and Moosh (the yellow Labrador).
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| The terrible two-some. Maggie always leading Moosh to trouble. |
To say that these two dogs were a handful would be an understatement. Maggie was 9 years old and never attended obedience school. Being an untrained dingo (who later graduated obedience school with honors), we had to be careful of her around strangers, as we were never sure of her behavior. Moosh, on the other hand was the antithesis to Maggie’s mischievousness. Overall he was an obedient and loving dog and one was only endangered from his bad breath when he greeted you. Still, he did whatever Maggie instructed him to do, which often got him into as much trouble as her.
One spring afternoon, I was busily typing on my computer, working on a client’s communications plan in my office. Like a bull, Maggie came charging into my office, forcefully scratching at the door demanding to be let out. Moosh wasn’t far behind. Still unfamiliar with their habits and communications, I naively assumed that Maggie had to use the “ladies room.” We didn’t have a doggie door at the time so I stopped my project and opened the door. Within 90 seconds after returning to my desk, I discovered her reason for haste. The odor infiltrated every nook and cranny of the office and soon I was slammed with full-on arsenal of a skunk bomb. Needless to say, I was not pleased as I was on deadline and didn’t know the first thing to do to fix the situation. (I didn’t exactly have gallons of tomato juice lying around.)
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| The official enemy of Wild Dingo. The instigagor, Monsieur P. Le Pew. |
I saw through the glass door that Maggie was foaming at the mouth, most likely from the skunk bomb hitting her in the face. Moosh on the other hand was clean. Poor Moosh! He was begging at the door to come in, frantic, fearful and disgusted by the smell. He managed to escape unscathed and for once in his entire life, he wanted to get away from his beloved Maggie. I wasn’t born yesterday and knew that once that door opened, Maggie would find her way inside. Eventually the smell subsided and I went outside to bathe Maggie.
That day, I realized that Maggie’s officious behavior would make her the perfect boss. No matter if her decisions were right or wrong, Maggie was capable of getting what she wanted and charging forward to get it. It always amazed me how she often would strategize, three or four moves ahead of Moosh, like a chess player, in order to get his toy away from him without brute force. Yes! She was bossy and strategic—perfect leadership qualities.
That afternoon, I wrote a press release about the incident and sent it out to a few friends and colleagues who were familiar with the terrible twosome. Wild Dingo was born. Maggie stepped up to the position of CEO and naturally, Moosh , the more charming of the two, became a customer service representative and co-founder. Since I was the only one who did any work, and obeyed Maggie’s demands, I became “the employee.” But things are looking up. Recently, I was promoted to “manager” of Wild Dingo.