A Professional Assessment – A Field Report from the Office, by Lars (6-month-old Dachshund, Junior Staff Member)

Regular readers will recall that I closed my last report with a note that Pippa, the Director, was due to return from leave. I said I was not concerned. I want to revisit that statement.

She walked in on the following Tuesday morning and I want to be clear that my response was entirely proportionate. I had spent a week establishing the lay of the land, meeting the team, assessing the building, and yes, familiarising myself with the corner office. I had done this thoroughly and in good faith. And then someone I had never met in my life walked in as though she owned the place.

I raised my concerns. Loudly. Several of the volunteers have since suggested this qualifies me for the role of Assistant Head of Security. I am choosing to accept this title without irony.

She did not leave. This was noted.

Over the following days I maintained a position of professional scepticism. She kept coming into the office. I kept making my reservations known. My person kept using a tone of voice that suggested I was perhaps overreacting, which I want to state for the record I was not. Someone had to ask the questions.

Eventually I concluded that if she was going to keep turning up, more sophisticated methods were required. I retired the barking temporarily, and moved into a new phase of assessment. Covert surveillance.

The approach was simple. At unpredictable intervals throughout the day, I would make my way quietly to her office doorway and look round the corner. Just my head. She was not always aware I was there. I would observe for a moment… was she at her desk? Was she working? Was anything suspicious occurring?… and then withdraw without comment. Clean. Professional. No fuss.

What I found, I will admit, was not what I expected. She is, by any reasonable measure, actually quite hard working. She is always at her desk. She is always doing something. I began to develop a grudging respect for this, though I kept that to myself during the surveillance phase as it would have undermined my position.

And then she shut the door.

She had a Teams meeting, which I understand is a thing the humans do where they talk to other humans through the computer, and she closed her office door, and I want to be very precise about what happened next. I was not upset. I was making a formal objection to a change in building policy that had been implemented without consultation. That is my door, the surveillance operation was ongoing, and I would like it open please.

My person and her colleagues found this funnier than was strictly necessary.

I have since revised my overall assessment of Pippa considerably upwards. She works hard, she generally keeps her door open, and has shown good judgement in several key areas. The corner office, it turns out, is in good hands. We have reached an understanding.

I should note, for the sake of completeness, that I have recently taken to visiting her office for what an outside observer might describe as cuddles. I want to be clear that this is an advanced surveillance technique. Embedding oneself within the organisation. Building trust. Gathering intelligence at close range. It is not because she is warm and smells nice. It is espionage. I am a professional.

Lars Assistant Head of Security and Head of Underdesk Operations