Have you ever cleaned your feet with dog drool?
Originally written and shared as a Toastmasters speech in 2010. I include this here because it seems important to celebrate playfulness and pups whenever possible!
Have you ever cleaned your feet with dog drool?
Well? Anyone? I am both ashamed and proud to admit that this is actually something I have done. And to make matters better (or worse?) I did this right before a business meeting! Let me back up and set the stage a bit.
I’ve always been a strong athlete, enjoying hard physical work. I’ve also always LOVED school and more specifically teaching. I promise we’ll get back to the dog drool in a minute. With my love of working hard, with my hands AND teaching I thrived in my jobs with Habitat for Humanity as a supervisor. I spent my days teaching volunteers to build houses, constantly learning new tricks and organizing special events (just to keep it interesting). Then, a few years back, on the way home from a build in Mississippi I got the wise idea that I should go into fundraising. After all, isn’t that just teaching the community about ways to support an amazing organization? And it is. However, I also found myself with the first desk job I’d had since I spent a summer filing papers in my mom’s office. The summer before I landed a job as a private gardener in a ritzy Detroit suburb. So there I was in an office, without carhartts and a toolbelt. What’s a girl to do? Well the only thing I know how to do is keep life interesting!
I have continued to have an “office” job; the one that brought me to Denver even requires that I wear a suit on a relatively regular basis. Be still my mother’s heart. She tried, in vain, to buy me a business suit every Christmas for five or six years before giving up and considering me a lost cause. And now my closet is filled with conservative, constrictive, conforming suits. And yet, I have still managed to find a way to play within this more conventional position. I’m going to share a few stories with you about my recent misadventures on business trips and yes; one of those in fact includes cleaning my feet with dog drool. The point is this, even the most buttoned up jobs can be playful, but it’s up to you to figure out how.
As a director of planned giving with the American Cancer Society I cover all of Colorado, Wyoming and Alaska. What an amazing playground and the work is good too! I spent the last two weeks of May in Alaska mostly in Anchorage and surrounding communities. One morning I had a meeting with an estate-planning attorney so I was dressed in khakis and a button down shirt (no need for suit coat in Alaska – it just makes you stick out like a sore thumb). On my way to my next appointment I had about 2 hours to make a 45-minute drive which took me past a wonderful state park that an advisor had recommended as a great intro hike in Alaska. Thunderbird falls is right off the highway between Anchorage and Sutton and is just a 1.5 mile hike (a little over 2 if you take the spur down to the base of the falls). So what did I do?
I pulled off the road of course. I swung into a parking spot grabbed my boots and a change of clothes and crammed myself into a hot and smelly pit latrine. Careful not to let my clean clothes get mussed by the outdoors, I changed into my hiking gear, tossed my business attire into the truck and headed down the trail. It was a perfect, warm spring morning in a lush and dense forest. A wonderful respite from a day of meetings and respectable clothing. I returned from the hike covered in mud and glistening with the sheen of exercise. My adventure not yet over I still needed to shimmy out of my now filthy outfit and back into my pressed and starched professional uniform… in a muggy, bug filled, outhouse. Have no fear, after years of playing ball I’ve become quite skilled at just this maneuver and was on the road in no time. No one was the wiser and I was a bit healthier in mind, body and spirit.
Bolstered by the success of this misadventure, I actually planned around my ability to squeeze in a hike on a business trip a few weeks later. I was heading down to Durango for an event but needed to stop in Buena Vista to meet with a CPA. This time I had my giant Newfoundland dog in the back seat showering all of the unsuspecting commuters behind me with his slobber as he enjoyed the open road by sticking his huge noggin out the window. I had had a meeting that morning and was dressed in a skirt, cardigan and heels as I made my way across the front range. I stopped just shy of Buena Vista at a little state park that reminded me of the high desert of New Mexico. I hadn’t been down this way yet, so I was excited to explore, stretch my legs, and break up the monotony of driving and appointments.
As you can guess, I slipped out of the car grabbed a change of clothes and popped into yet another blazing hot and acrid pit latrine to gear up for a jaunt through cactus laden trails. We had a lovely hour long hike, although Milo got a bit toasty and didn’t really want to continue. He kept trying to take cover in the shade of silverthorn plants rather than endure the intense heat of the mile-high sun. We made it back to the car with just enough time for me to cleanup, swipe on a bit more deodorant and hustle the last few miles to the CPA’s office. Having grown quite used to the less than desirable conditions of the bathrooms in the backcountry I quickly updated my wardrobe and hightailed it out of the wreaking confines of the modern day moonroom. I was dressed for success and was ready to go when I looked down at my feet. I was in flip flops still, waiting until the last possible moment to bind my feet in heels, and I noticed that “little piggies” was the perfect descriptor for my dusty, dirty digits. I couldn’t walk into a meeting with blackened feet (I had worn sandals for the hike) and expect any level of respect.
In desperation I looked around for some water and a cloth to wipe down my sodden toes. Milo was sitting outside the car looking at me quizzically as I eyed the dredges of his water bowl. I had dumped the last container of water into his dish before doing the latrine limbo. He had greedily lapped up every last drop leaving only a slimy slop of drool swimming around the bottom. I had no choice really – dog drool or dirty dactyls? And so I did it… With a cringe I plunged a rag into the bowl and wiped my feet clean leaving an interesting shimmer of dried saliva for added interest. It was not my proudest moment, but perhaps among my more resourceful! I’ll have to save the story of my encounter with a wild black bear on a business trip for next time.
I realize that these anecdotes are a bit extreme if you just want to keep things interesting at work. But my mom always says I never do things the easy way. You don’t have to be quite so outrageous in your endeavors. All it takes is a bit of mindfulness, spontaneity and a sense of adventure. Keep your job new and interesting by taking a walk around the building, inviting a different colleague to lunch, experimenting with working from home or find a way to squeeze in a few miles on the trail. Whatever it takes to keep you energized, motivated, and intrigued with your environment. The more engaged you are the more productive you’ll be and everyone will win. How will you find a new use for dog drool?