It was a big day.
I had a Zoom meeting with a potential client โ someone Iโd been trying to land for weeks. Iโd rehearsed my pitch, picked out a clean shirt, even made sure the lighting was flattering (aka, not soul-crushingly fluorescent).
Everything was set.
Laptop propped on books.
Notes nearby.
Coffee just out of frame.
Enter: Milo.
My 3-year-old golden retriever.
Adorable. Fluffy.
Completely unaware of corporate etiquette.
The call started smoothly.
Small talk, smiles, โcan you hear me?โ checks.
Then, right as I launched into my key selling pointโฆ I heard it.
That unmistakable sound of something being destroyed.
I glanced to the side โ and there was Milo, proudly parading through the background with a pair of my underwear in his mouth like heโd just won a trophy.
The client paused.
I froze.
Milo trotted right up to the camera, dropped his โgift,โ and let out one joyful โWOOF.โ
I tried to carry on. I really did.
But then came Round Two: he jumped on the couch, slipped, hit a lamp, and knocked it to the floor โ mid-sentence.
Silence.
Then laughter. From both sides of the call.
I apologized. A lot.
But the client said, โHonestly, I needed that. Letโs continue.โ
Believe it or not โ I got the deal.
Milo got a treat.
And now, before every meeting, I give him his favorite [long-lasting chew toy] so heโs distracted for at least 30 minutes. I also added a [soft pet gate] to block his parade path.
Lessons learned:
Close the door.
Check the background.
And never underestimate the power of a dog determined to steal the spotlight.
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