the injustice. the betrayal. the conference room exile.

listen. i was just doing my JOB.

someone walked by the front door. i barked once. not like, crazy barking. just a little “hello who are you what are your intentions do you have snacks” type of bark. standard stuff. security protocol.

and what do i get?

“ETTA, OUT.”

excuse me??? EXXXXCUSEEE MEEE??

do u mean “Etta, thank you for your vigilance”?
do u mean “Etta, that bark was powerful and appropriate”?
no. they mean “etta, go sit in hallway jail and think about what you’ve done.”

and so i go. i go out of the room. the cold concrete floor of shame. the door closes. everyone is still in the meeting. no one looks back.

i sit. i stare at the door like a very furry prisoner. i paw gently at the door for dramatic effect. still nothing.

so i lay down. like a tragic figure. like a dog in a movie about love and loss.
my eyes say “why would you do this to me.” my tail says “i’m still a little bit hopeful.”

inside the room, they keep talking. about deliverables. about timelines. about clients.
do u know who actually cares about this agency?

me.

do u know who shows up every single day ready to be emotionally available and sniff everyone’s shoes and keep the energy high?

me.

and yet. here i am. behind glass. licking my feelings off my paw.

eventually someone opens the door. not to say sorry. not to tell me i was brave. just to go to the printer.

they look down. they say “you can come in now.”

oh. now i can come in? now that i’ve done my job and been punished for it?

fine.

but just so we’re clear…

i’m gonna bark again.
and when i do, it will be for all the dogs who’ve ever been wrongfully silenced in the workplace.

xoxo,
etta
Former Inmate | Current Threat | Still a Very Good Girl