He dragged himself off the elevator and into the office. He didn't have a good night the night before -- a hail storm had damaged some of the beets -- and his morning sales call was a disaster.
"What's that smell?" he asked Jim as he set his bag on his desk.
"What smell?" Jim replied.
"It smells like a dog." He took another whiff of the air. "A Labrador of some sort."
Jim looked up from his desk, a frustrated look on his face. "Actually, it's a chihuahua Kelly brought in."
"Why did Kelly bring a chihuahua into the office?" Dwight asked sternly.
Jim got that smug thoughtful look on his face that Dwight always hated. "Um, I think she's replacing Ryan with a dog."
And sure enough, at that moment, the dog in question came barreling through the kitchen door, ran over to Andy's desk, and started barking at the paper salesman. Andy looked kind of frightened at the little pooch in the ballerina tutu next to him. "Paris!" Kelly yelled. "Paris, come here!"
The dog obediently ran back to its owner and Kelly scooped her up from the floor.
"What is that?" Dwight yelled from across the office.
"It's my dog, Paris," Kelly replied innocently. "I named her after Paris Hilton. Did you know Paris has a chihuahua named Tinkerbell?"
Dwight scowled at the little dog. "I don't care! A dog does not belong in this office! In fact, I should report you to corporate or, at the very least, to Toby. Not like he'll do anything about it, but at least I will be able to formally file a complaint for this immaturity."
"Fine!" Kelly yelled back. "I'll just take her into the back room again where she'll be all cooped up with no one but me to give her any attention!" Kelly quickly turned, walking back through the kitchen door in a huff with the little puppy in her arms.
Dwight sat down in his chair and turned on his computer, asking as if nothing had happened.
"Wow," Jim said next to him. "That was intense."
Dwight looked over questioningly. "Do you think I was too harsh on her? Because I wasn't."
"No," Jim replied quickly. "No, man. I've just wanted to say that to her all morning."
"Oh."
"So yeah, thanks, I guess."
Dwight turned back to his computer and entered his password, "SamwiseSchrute," into the space provided. "It's my duty as safety officer to make sure there are no health hazards in the office," Dwight explained, keeping his eyes on his screen as his HP booted up. "A dog could cause any number of serious problems for the employees here, including death."
"Right," Jim replied, going back to his work.
He just doesn't understand, Dwight thought. Seriously, 10,000 people die of dog allergies every year. Dwight looked back at his computer screen wondering how he was going to salvage his lost paper sales and his lost beets.
*** *** ***
It had been quiet after Kelly ran back to the annex with her pooch, but Dwight was starting to get suspicious that it was a little too quiet. Then he heard Jim forcefully push his chair away from his desk.
"What the..."
"What's the matter?" Dwight replied.
He immediately reached for his ninja stars under his desk, believing that something had attacked Jim and was going to try and get him next. His theory his close. Kelly's dog came bounding out from under Jim's desk, wearing a red dress. It was then that he noticed Jim's pants leg was soaked. "Is that dog urine?"
Jim scowled as he looked down at his wet shoe. "Yep," he answered matter-of-factly. "I think it is."
"Paris!"
Ugh. Kelly's scream always hurt Dwight's ears. He was pretty sure it was a weird high-pitched thing in her voice that only he could register with his above-average hearing.
"Um, Kelly, I think your dog peed on me."
"Omigod, Jim! I am soooo sorry! I'm still trying to train her to use a litter box."
"Um...aren't those for cats?" Jim asked.
"Fact: Small dogs can use litter boxes," Dwight replied. "Also, they can be trained to do their business on newspaper laid on the ground."
Jim took a quick glance to see if there were any cameras getting all this. "Thanks, Dwight," he replied quietly, his camera search ending in defeat.
"Jim! I am so sorry!"
"Yeah, you said that already," he answered nonchalantly as he rolled his chair back to his desk while shaking his leg, hoping to dry off any dog urine he could.
As Kelly walked away with her dog, Dwight began to pack up his stuff for the day. "Jim, I would suggest you soak the leg of your pants in milk when you get home. It always helps me get ink stains out of my shirt pockets."
Jim gave him a defeated look. "Thanks, man. I may try that."
Dwight threw his briefcase strap on to his shoulder. "Bitches. Can't live with them, can't live without them."
"Yeah, I guess."
Dwight briefly put his hand on Jim's shoulder before walking out the door. His day was bad, but Jim's was worse. It was going to take forever to get that dog urine off his work shoes.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Inspired by The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, only with more bodily functions and less pseudo-Christianity.
