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Top dog

Wonder if anyone spotted me lurking outside the London Dungeon this week. And, no, before anyone even dares suggest it, I wasn’t there to audition. What I was actually trying to do was track down PR man Dylan with whom I was meant to be having a meeting. Or, to be precise, I was actually trying to track down the coffee bar that I hoped would be housing said man.

In the end, keen to move from my vantage point outside the dungeon before someone did actually offer me a job, I made a quick call.

“We’re on our way,” chirped the voice on the other end of the phone. “Stay right where you are and we’ll come and find you.”

I was a bit baffled by the use of word ‘we’ as I wasn’t expecting to see two people. Then I heard a snuffling sound and felt a cold wet nose nuzzling my hand. Nope, it wasn’t Dylan – but his gorgeous pooch Poppy.

As we walked to a nearby café, Dylan explained how he’d given up a job with a top London advertising agency for the sake of his beloved pet.

“Not many bosses would put up with a dog in the office,” he said. “So I decided to start working for myself instead. That way, Poppy can always come with me.”

We went on to have a very useful meeting (discussing co-creation, for those who are interested) while Poppy sat obediently by her master’s side.

Afterwards, I couldn’t help but think that, in a dog eat dog world (forgive the pun) where lunch breaks are increasingly a thing of the past, and more and more women go from labour ward to laptop, how nice that this man has rearranged his working life for the mutual happiness of both himself and his pet.

It made my week.








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