When Biscuit Took Over Operations

Our home is run by three Shetland Sheepdogs who believe rules are flexible, evidence is optional, and, for one, naps are mandatory. Biscuit handles executive decisions, Cricket handles analysis, and Kevin handles morale. They’re the reason today’s topic came up at all.

There are moments in life when you realize you’ve made a terrible decision.
Not immediately, of course. At first, it feels efficient. Even smart.

“Maybe,” I thought, “it’s time to start giving the dogs a little more responsibility around here.” That was my first mistake. My second mistake was saying it out loud.

Biscuit’s head snapped up so fast I’m fairly certain she broke the sound barrier, “Did someone say responsibility?”

Kevin gasped, “WE’RE GETTING PROMOTED?!

Cricket didn’t even look up from her book, “This is going to end in flames.”

The Promotion That Shouldn’t Have Happened

It started innocently enough.I had a busy day ahead—calls, errands, the usual—and I figured giving Biscuit a small task might keep her occupied.

“Alright,” I said. “You’re in charge of… the daily schedule.” There was a pause. The kind of pause where, if you were smarter, you would immediately walk it back.

Biscuit slowly turned toward me, “In charge… of time?”

“Not time,” I clarified. “Just… organizing the day.”

Biscuit stood up. “No, no. I understand. I will be controlling time.”

Kevin saluted. “Yes Captain Clocks!”

Cricket sighed, “We’re going to miss meals, aren’t we?”

The System (Written… On the Wall)

I should have checked what Biscuit was doing. Instead, I went to make coffee.

By the time I came back, she had created what she called: “A Highly Efficient Life Optimization Chart.” It was written in marker. On the wall.

“Biscuit… why is the schedule on the wall?”

“So it can’t escape.”

“That’s not—never mind. Walk me through it.”

She cleared her throat. “07:00 hours - Wake up dramatically. Unless you’re me where I sleep in till 10:27.”

Kevin nodded. “I can do dramatic.”

“10:28 - Breakfast negotiations.”

Cricket looked up.“You mean eating?”

Biscuit shook her head. “No. Eating is what happens if negotiations fail.”

I rubbed my temples. “Keep going.”

“10:30 - Strategic barking at invisible threats.”

Kevin leaned toward me. “That’s my specialty.”

“10:40: Mandatory zoomies. Non-negotiable.”

Cricket - “Of course.”

“11:00 - Financial planning.”

I froze. “I’m sorry… what?”

Biscuit puffed up proudly. “Yes. I’ve allocated our resources.”

“What resources?”

She gestured toward the pantry. “The snack economy.”

When the Schedule Took Over the House

Things started to unravel around 9:12 a.m. Kevin was starved because he had to wake up at 7:00am and breakfast wasn’t until 10:28 when the “princess” woke up.

Then there were the zoomies. Now, zoomies are usually a spontaneous event. Organic. Chaotic, yes—but natural. Biscuit had scheduled them. This was different.

“GO! GO! GO!” she shouted.

Kevin launched himself off the couch like a furry missile. Cricket moved exactly three steps to the left and continued reading.

I ducked as Kevin ricocheted off a chair. “Biscuit,” I said, “you can’t force zoomies.”

She checked the wall. “It’s 10:47! We are behind schedule.”

The Snack Economy Collapses

At 11:00 a.m., things got worse.

“Alright everyone,” Biscuit announced, “time for financial planning.”

I should have intervened. I didn’t. “What does that mean?” I asked cautiously.

She pulled out a bowl. Not just any bowl. The good treat bowl. “We are redistributing assets.”

Cricket closed her book. “Define ‘redistributing.’”

Biscuit began handing out treats. “One for Kevin.”

“YAY!”

“One for me.”

“Of course.”

“One for morale.” She ate that one too. One for Cricket. “And one for future investments.” Also eaten.

I stepped in. “Biscuit, you can’t just ‘spend’ all our treats in one morning!”

She looked at me like I was the one being unreasonable. “I’m stimulating the economy.”

Cricket muttered, “QE treat style. Inflation runs rampant. This is exactly how civilizations collapse.”

Taking Back Control

By noon, nothing was on track. Meals were early. Then late. Then early again. Kevin had eaten something he referred to as “second breakfast negotiations.”

The wall schedule had been revised six times, in permanent marker. And somehow… we were all tired.

I finally stepped in. “Alright. That’s enough. I’m taking back control of the schedule.”

Biscuit froze.

Kevin gasped.

Cricket looked relieved.

“You’re… firing me?” Biscuit said quietly.

I hesitated. Because here’s the thing. She was terrible at it. But she also cared. A lot.

“No,” I said. “I’m… reassigning you.”

She narrowed her eyes. “To what?”

I thought for a moment. “You’re now in charge of morale.”

There was a long pause. Then - Biscuit smiled. “Oh. I will excel at this.”

Kevin cheered. “MORALE PARTY!”

Cricket shook her head. “This is still going to be a problem.”

What Actually Happened Here

The house calmed down after that. Schedules returned to normal. Meals happened when they were supposed to. And the treat bowl… mostly recovered.

But something stuck with me. Because Biscuit wasn’t trying to cause chaos. She was genuinely trying to help. She just didn’t understand the system she was trying to run.

And honestly? That’s where a lot of training—and a lot of frustration—comes from. We hand dogs responsibility without clarity. We expect structure without teaching it.

And then we’re surprised when they invent their own version of “organization.”

(Usually involving snacks.)

The Hidden Lesson

If your dog is “taking over” something they shouldn’t… It’s rarely rebellion. It’s usually confusion. Or initiative without direction.

Which, depending on how you look at it… is actually a pretty great problem to have.

Biscuit poked her head back into the room. “Quick question. Is morale allowed to have snacks?”

“No.”

“…What about emotional snacks?”

Cricket didn’t look up.

“That’s not a thing.”

Biscuit grabbed a treat and ran. “IT IS NOW.”

Question: I accidentally gave my dog one treat for looking cute… and now he thinks he’s the boss of the house. He’s demanding snacks, won’t follow basic commands, and stares at me like I work for him. How do I fix this before he starts scheduling meetings?
— Recently Demoted in My Own Living Room

Biscuit answers:

First of all… congratulations. You have successfully created a leader. Second of all… you made a critical error. You gave compensation without establishing a corporate structure. Kevin, take notes.

Kevin: “I’m writing ‘more snacks = power.’”

Correct. Now here’s what you need to do.
Step one: rebrand yourself. You are no longer “owner.” You are now Support Staff.
Step two: lean into it. If your dog is CEO, you must ask permission for everything. “May I sit on the couch, sir?” “Is it acceptable if I use my own kitchen?” This builds trust.
Step three: negotiate your salary. You should be receiving at least two treats per hour for your services. If not, you are being exploited.

Kevin: “What if they get three treats?”

Then you’ve entered upper management.

Now… if you really want to take back control - (which I don’t recommend, because power is intoxicating)—you must stop random payments. Treats should only be given for clearly defined tasks: sit equals one treat, down equals one treat, not overthrowing the household hierarchy equals bonus potential.

Cricket: “That last one isn’t a command.”

It is now.

Final note: if your dog starts scheduling meetings… attend them. Bring snacks. And whatever you do—do NOT make eye contact. That’s how they finalize promotions.

— Biscuit ✔️

If you want to see Biscuit complaining about her February 29th birthday, you definitely want to see THIS video! She takes it to a whole new level!

Before you go…

Cartoon of the Week!