For The [Supposed] Love of Dogs

         It was time to return to work for another day after two fulfilling days off. After taking up more hours in exchange for a fatter paycheck, I wasn't too thrilled on working full-time again. But the prospect of freeing myself from the shackles of my debt was more than enough of a reason to drag my tired frame from the bed, get cleaned up and drive to the work location. Even if I didn't want to.

         After maneuvering past my least favorite manager and obtaining a list of non-compatible dogs to deal with, I headed off down the hallway to start my shift. I was greeted with the all-too-familiar, all-too-annoying barking symphony of dogs echoing through the area. The entire facility was a chamber of concrete, glass and metal with kennels sporting a large glass window to see what disaster the inhabitant created out of misery and boredom. Any sound would have zero issues carrying itself through the area as the construction of the site made it a large echo chamber.

         Not all of the kennels were filled with dogs of different sizes and breeds, but even the loudest wailing could be heard from the other side of the building if one listened intently. But nearly each bark, wail or howl carried the same message: they wanted out of their prison cells and out of this facility.

         I refused to let my ears be assaulted by the noise any longer, so I moved towards the kitchen, hoping for a bit of silence and peace.

         What I got instead was a co-worker engrossed in washing and rinsing the dirty dishes from the morning. A fresh blue towel was spread out for air drying the now clean dishes and the rusted rack on the far left supported the weight of various dog foods from pet owners. Three flies buzzed around the kitchen, desperate to slide into the contents of any open bags of food. The scent permeating the kitchen reeked of soaked dog food, garbage and dish soap from the leaking sinks.

         I didn't want to disturb him so I left for the laundry room to plant my belongings and start work. The state of the room was no better than the kitchen; the washer had malfunctioned again and after lifting the lid, I observed soaked blankets floating in what I assumed was rinsing water. Dust bunnies of dog hair and lint littered the floor, in corners and even in the floor drain. The chemical used for kennel cleaning had leaked onto the counter, staining it a reddish-orange color. The scent was different though; it smelled like a mixture of cleaning chemicals and various dogs.

         I had already decided what I wanted to tackle first and after everything I've seen so far, there was no time to waste. I cleared a spot on the counter and sat my things down. Clicking on the walkie, I checked the list and set off to release the non-compatible dogs. I didn't release all of them, only the ones I deemed tame enough for fresh air and human interaction. Luckily, the list was short so it was finished quickly and I moved to other tasks at hand. On many occasions, my body and clothes would get assaulted with slobbering kisses, drool and bodily fluids one would expect from a dog. Plus, being the only Resort Associate scheduled to close today brought me zero comfort.

         By 4pm, it was time to drop dinner and take a break before starting the closing process. I longed to crash in secluded area, plug in my earbuds and disappear into my mind for a while. After looking around, I spotted an empty VIP room and claimed it immediately by setting my things down. The only furniture in the room was a tattered bed that had seen better days, but was still sturdy enough to support the weight of one tired employee. My feet greatly appreciated the relief anyway.

         There was nothing important that needed to be addressed at the moment so I spent my break listening to soft music through my earbuds. My mind drifted to the reason why I started full-time work...

I just need some extra money to cover my bills, possibly restart an emergency fund, get rid of this mountain of debt off my back...

I sighed. If only I was way smarter with my money. If only life wasn't so darn complicated to begin with. If only...

         Despite the overwhelming sense of it all, the were some silver linings. Most of the dogs were well-behaved and sweet. The work itself didn't bother me as much, only the people working there. A smirk tugged my lips as I remembered what someone mentioned briefly in an online post:

"People don't quit jobs. They quit people."

         A sharp static sound snapped me out of my thoughts. The walkie had buzzed to life with someone asking a receptionist about a dog. Annoyed at the interruption, I clicked it off and checked my timer. Four minutes left. Another groan left me. My breaks moved too fast.

         I was halfway through the closing process and was near the end of my rope. My feet burned, my shirt reeked of chemicals, sweat and dog fluids, and my hands were cracked and ached. But I kept going. Almost done. I can't stop now. Not when I can finally leave this place after everything's done.

         Before I knew it, I was refilling my water bottle , returning the walkie back and limping towards my now bruised car. Relief at last! All that awaits was some food for my belly, painkillers for the aching, and a hot shower to scrub off the day. I stuffed the key in the ignition and cranked the car to life. Time for the long drive home for peace and quiet.