Last of my ongoing photographic and gibber-acular tribute to my home office, now that I’m moving back into a cube farm.

So, it ends where it started. Me and Porter on the floor of the office. I didn’t have Rosie or Pearl when I started working from home, so it’s fitting that on this last day of writing about it he’s the only one in here with me.

Porter didn’t make very good coffee. He would pound the shit out of the screen door with his paw in the middle of my conference calls. He has a small vocabulary (“inside,” “hungry?,” “go downstairs,” etc). But whenever the bombs dropped and I needed a friend he was right there, ready for a recovery cuddle. And for that, I am very very grateful.

I would have taken pictures of Pearl and Rosie, but they are outside playing — as they do for about half of the day. They’re in here for the other half, sleeping or fighting when it’s my turn to speak on a status call. It makes me smile to see all three of them in a dog pile, and it saved the life of my ex-manager more than once. She’d be yelling and acting a fool on the phone, and Porter’s feet would kick slightly as Rosie cleaned his ear.

I’m going to miss seeing them all day.