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Zero The Advice Dog

I'm the one on the right

Between the lack of interior lighting and feathers covering my eyes, I had a tad bit of trouble in the vision department. As a result, I may have looked a bit like a chicken when trying to follow a conversation.

Chicken problems aside, my mask achieved a high level glory. A level right around best female mask. Which makes it two years in a row for me as well. The best part was that my prize was a spiffy new Kindle Fire! A much tastier prize than last year's scotch.

Of course, all this victory comes with a price: I must continue my reign next year!

During round four, Matt came home with two packs of InAnimate Stickers. Gee, what on earth could *I* do with these? It's not like I constantly anthropomorphize or tag everything with a reasonably flat surface. His only request was that I not plaster everything in the house. So I took them to work to share with the equally easily amused masses.


For those of you wondering, yes, that is a blue Android, post-makeover.

In other news, Friday was Take Your Dog to Work Day. It's the slightly furrier equivalent of Take Your Kids to Work Day, except with better behavior and fewer NDAs. Of course, I brought Zero, who was more than willing to spend the day eating treats and sniffing other dogs.

The first mutt-type activity was pet portraits, taken by professional pet photographers. Google paid for the photographers to come and for everyone to get digital copies of their pets' photos, but not for printed copies. Pay for something? Ourselves? The nerve!


You'll note the chicken strip, Zero's favorite treat, dangling above the camera. It was impressive how long he sat there, patiently staring down that chicken strip, until it was close enough to eat. The photographer's assistant even commented on how long he sat on the cushion stool thing. Clearly she wasn't aware that he's the Golden Dog.

You can safely assume that when the photos come later this week, they will be shared.

Next came a professional dog trainer, who told everyone what they were doing wrong. Once again, Zero shone as the only dog who already knew "down" and "off". Did I mention Golden Dog?

The final event of the day was Yappy Hour, with more doggy snacks and (finally) human snacks, served in the kitchen. Of course, Zero took the opportunity to poop next to the buffet. He was quickly demoted from Golden Dog to object in need of a good punt off the third-story balcony.

After his not-really-an-accident was cleaned up and we were far away from the contaminated area, I had to admit it was a bit amusing. For everyone else, I mean. Everyone knew that some dog was going to do that, and they were glad it wasn't their dog. At least he's too pathetic to be mad at for long.

There was a big todo over Google changing their algorithms and causing content farms to drop in rankings. Well, since so many people have asked me about this change, I have decided to respond publicly:
Q.E.D.

One of the best things about my job is the free food. Not just instant mashed potatoes and bags of cheesy poofs, but delicious gourmet cooking everyday. And if you don't believe me, just ask my mom about toasted almonds.

Last week I grabbed chicken for lunch on my way to a meeting. About an hour later, Matt stopped by for a free lunch to say hi. I mentioned that I had the chicken, which prompted him to look at me as though my nose had retracted and come out the other side of my head. While I confirmed that my nose hadn't gone walkabout, he pointed out that it reeked of bacon.

"No, it's chicken. It says chicken. And the first ingredient is... bacon!. WTF?!"

"How could you not have smelled it?"

"My nose is still stuffed. Stupid useless nose."

Well, that sucked, but at least I learned my lesson - always read the ingredient lists.

Fast forward a week, and I found myself staring at a glorious pile of ice cream sandwiches.


Being the patient and practical being that I am, it seemed perfectly natural to have one before even considering the standard entrees. After all, ice cream sandwiches is a subset of sandwiches, and sandwiches are perfectly reasonable lunches. Not liking chocolate, I chose the snickerdoodle one. Everything was going splendidly until one of the food workers asked me if I liked the bacon ice cream.

Cooking chicken in bacon fat is one thing, but bacon ice cream? Who on earth expects little piggy particles in their desserts? The loons over at Coolhaus, that's who. Lesson double plus learned.


Later on I found out that the candied bacon bits were very obvious in texture and taste, so I managed to eat the part of the sandwich without my current arch nemesis. As a side note, since when did people candy bacon? Eww.

Months and months ago, Zero and I dressed up as Futurama characters for Halloween. I was Turanga Leela, and Zero was Nibbler. He was a good sport while I made his costume, so I promised him steak if he won the dog costume contest at work. The competition was fierce, but he beat his sole competitor, Poppy, who was dressed as Christmas. Yay $50 worth of victory in the form of a prepaid Visa card!

Nibbler/Zero and Christmas/Poppy

Sadly, the best picture of Zero was not the best picture of Poppy. But since Zero won, the Poppy part is not particularly important. Sorry Poppy!

Now you may recall that I promised him steak, so Matt and I were forced to dine at Boa. Oh woe is me! But alas, Zero earned his steak. I ordered a bigger steak than I could eat, which also happened to be my favorite cut that isn't available in a smaller size, leaving plenty for Award-Winning Zero. The best part? While he may not have bothered to chew, he didn't choke!

Why did I wait so long to share such cuteness with the world? I forgot, of course! What could have possibly reminded me of this grave oversight? This past weekend's Holiday Party. The theme was MadMen, but I wanted to wear my awesome hat. So I created my own theme known colloquially as A Dress That Matches My Hat.

Hat!

While waiting for dessert to be served, Matt and I were sitting at a random table near the dance floor. A random guy I had never before seen came over to ask if we were going to enter the costume contest. Uh, no? Spent the next few minutes trying to convince me with promises of great prizes. Eventually, I was forced to relent.

I nonchalantly sauntered onto the dance floor to await judgement. Okay, that was a complete lie. It may be slightly more accurate to say that Matt alternated between pushing and shoving me. Either way, there were a few other people milling around in the appointed spot, waiting for something interesting to happen. Luckily the wait was only a minute or two, not enough time for me to nonchalantly saunter away.

The random guy who coerced me into standing took the microphone. He started with third place, which went to a smartly-dressed lady in blue. Second was given to a man dressed in a cardigan. And first was bestowed upon me?! What? I know the hat is truly amazing, but I had no idea that it is awesome enough to beat hundreds of other, including a significantly percentage of whom dressed in accordance with the official theme.

You will note that I have refrained from making any jokes about a feather in my cap. You will also note that my prize is a ridiculous bottle of whiskey, specifically a Macallan 18 year.

Award-winning Hat!