Zippy: the real story of a very bad office dog

Last week, Zippy our shortest, hairiest, loudest and, let’s face it, rudest Velocity colleague gave a very funny interview on Napa’s Daily Growl.

It was a fine piece and it told the truth.

It just didn’t tell the whole truth.

In fact, it left out the most important bits.

If Zippy had been completely candid, he would have included these more complete answers to the same questions:

What breed are you?

I’m part Jack Russell, part sociopath and total pain in the arse.

I was not bred.

I was spawned.

Tell me more about your job and where you work.

My work is preventing others from working. It’s a calling.

I do it at one of the many, many B2B marketing agencies in London. I forget the name.

I am unpaid, unsung and, if I didn’t know better, could easily conclude unwelcome.

What is a typical day in the office?

Arrive. Piss on the first schmuck I meet. Chew the nearest non-tethered object.

Herald the arrival of each and every person.

Piss on some of them.

Collapse in sun-patch. Forage for protein. Repeat.

When you’re bored at the office, how do you keep busy?

I rarely have completely free time — there are so many people to annoy, conference calls to interrupt and things to un-make.

I may look like I’m relaxing but I need to be ready at any time to leap up, scream my head off and menace the innocent.

I do enjoy intimidating visitors. Especially anyone carrying anything. Also the empty-handed.

I also do this call-and-response-thing with the lady who picks up my shit (I know: WTF, right?). I say, “Woof!” then she says, “Zippy!” then I say, “WOOF!” and she says, “ZIPPY!!!”.  Never gets old.  Good times.

If you could tell your human co-workers one thing, what would it be?

To be honest, there is little that goes unsaid. I don’t believe in holding things in.

I have little time for the traditional constructs of ‘obedience’ or ‘manners’ or ‘training’.

I’d say everyone knows exactly where I stand on most issues.