After winning Best of Show at the Westminster Dog Show, gorgeous Scottish deerhounds everywhere have reason to stand a little taller (… if that’s even possible!)

But we have it on good authority from friend of Sametz Blackstone and frequent leash-bearer, DuncanRhys Liancourt, that the big win may even be leading to a little diva behavior!

As DuncanRhys tells us at his blog, Cultured Anarchy:

“My dog stopped in the midst of our morning walk and refused to budge. When I let go of the leash for a moment to get a tissue from my coat pocket (bloody, vile, tedious winter) she began walking, but when I again took hold of the leash she froze. My dog, Rhonwyn, will never win an obedience award but she is well trained for a pet and generally does what I say. Also, she knows the routine, has always been fine with it, and understands how singularly important it is that her daddy get his medicine.

You might think her refusing to walk rather trivial and you may suggest I simply pull her along, and I would gladly do so in order to complete the morning walk and get my double espresso, aka medicine. Rhonwyn is, however, freakishly strong. She is a power-racing model. She sports 22 inch front legs and 28 inch back legs, and can gnaw on my belt buckle––if she reaches down a bit. When she plants her forepaws (designed for traction on very rugged moors and heaths), and leans back on her locked back legs (designed to launch her after cervine prey at greyhound speeds) she becomes a statue, 75 pounds of limb, tail, and snout with no convenient handholds.

Anyway, this leash scenario was repeated with Rhonwyn walking–when walking­–trippingly, making manifest that she was in perfect health. What, I wondered, could have brought on this surge of prideful obstinacy? Suddenly it was clear to me, even without my medicine: Rhonwyn had gone Diva. In case you do not follow dog news, the Westminster Dog Show was held on Monday and Tuesday nights. The Scottish deerhound, a breed present at the first show 135 years ago, won, for the first time ever, Best in Show. Rhonwyn is a Scottish deerhound. Ergo, my wee lass was full of her self.”

To read more about DuncanRhys and Rhonwyn’s (wagging) tale, head over to CulturedAnarchy.com.

This is Callie, project management office supervisor, cookie taster, and chief canine companion to one of our fantastic designers, Kerri.

I go to the fourth floor to visit Callie at least once a day, and she’s usually sleeping contentedly in her crate, or making eyes at Kerri to open her cookie jar just one… more… time.

Today, I received a photo on my iPhone of Callie in her new fall gear from Michael — yes, we text from floor to floor, as well as emailing, IMing, phoning, paging, and dropping by to visit one another here at Sametz Blackstone, like any well-c0nnected office — and made an immediate detour from what I was doing to go down and check her out.

Kerri made the sweatshirt you see in the photo above from one of her own, since most pet clothing companies don’t make togs for big dogs — but you’d never know it wasn’t made from scratch for Callie herself.

So we thought we’d share a little of the fall fashion around here with you, our faithful ‘Round the Square readers, and send some sunny (you can see how sunny in the photo!) autumn wishes from our Boston brownstone.

The summer is just a humid memory now, and we’ve got tons of projects ramping up as the temperatures start to drop. Our valued collaborators are finally back in the office, or at school, or wherever they go to do what they do, from the symphony hall to the museum wing.

They say fall is the loveliest season in New England, and I can confirm it’s true, as a recent transplant from Western Canada.

And we’re all suited up to enjoy it at Sametz Blackstone — both bipedal and quadrupedal team members alike!

“YOU WHAT!?”

That final detail always pushes them over the edge. Nobody can believe (especially if they’ve met the 90-pound beast that is my dog, Dylan) my pet comes into the office every day with me.

Hard worker, isn’t he?

It’s an absolute pleasure having him with me every day at the office. If I worked in a large company, or a company with less flexible ideas about workspace, I would most likely not be bringing Dylan bounding through the front door.

So how does this seemingly small (yet in reality, HUGE) benefit of bringing our dogs to the office affect the actual work that gets produced? I actually have a couple theories:

A workplace that embraces who we are as a whole is a happy workplace. Many offices allow you to put up photos in your cubicle and check your Facebook page now and then — but the rest of the time, your life and personality take a backseat to your daily responsibilities. Because we’re a creative, dynamic group at Sametz Blackstone, the lines between who we are and what we do are more blurry by intention — we’re encouraged to bring our unique personality, perspective and experience (not to mention our dogs!) to the table every single day.

This holistic approach and embrace of who we are fosters a genuine excitement for what we do each day — and that excitement translates into the kind of creative, fresh work our clients are seeking.

When the chips are down, a wagging tail offers a much-needed boost. When my colleagues and I are having a particularly bad day or week, we have these cheerful, energetic furry support systems to keep our spirits up. (Dylan makes sure he’s in the middle of every review at every desk down here on the Digital Media floor.) They outdo coffee as a re-motivator any day of the week.

Ultimately, while having dogs nearby is only a part of our culture, it’s emblematic of our approach: we believe that the best breeding ground for inspiration is one where people have the freedom to create an environment they truly enjoy.

Without exaggerating, I can honestly say that the dogs have become an important part of the team, and a necessary part of our routine each day (though we all have to work very hard to keep Roger’s dog Knightley away from our bagels and drinks during our monthly Bagels + Schmear…)

I love bringing Dylan to work with me, and he definitely boosts my morale when I spend a long day behind a desk. But I’m probably making you jealous at this point. So I’ll stop.

(But you’re welcome to come see me, Dylan, and the rest of us anytime!)

What do you love about your work environment? What do you think would improve it?

Labradoodle… Goldendoodle… Cockapoo… Pugapoo… Peekapoo… Maltapoo… Saint Berdoodle…

Okay, where to begin? Normally I’m a tolerant and understanding pooch, but this craziness is driving me mad (“flipping my wig” mad, as it were).

What was so wrong with the original… poodle!?

Why’d everyone have to start monkeying around with us (and believe me, that’s exactly what some of ‘em look like to me: monkeys!). The fancy word nowadays is crossbreed or hybrid. I just call it a mess.

See, most folks are looking for, let’s say, the temperament of a golden retriever and the hypoallergenic coat of a poodle. But guess what… there’s no guarantee! You could end up with the shed-like-crazy, sneeze-inducing coat of a retriever and the temperament of a Real Housewives of New Jersey poodle. And then I’d laugh my heinie off (what, you don’t think dogs can laugh?).

(Uhmmm, and why don’t they try this nonsense with cats?)

Moreover, since I hang out everyday at a branding shop, I’m none too pleased at the turn this is taking in that regard.

Back in the day, a dog stood for something: golden retriever=loyal; labrador retriever=energetic; beagle=food hound; poodle=smart(ass). Now they’re boiling it all down to what might be less than the sum of the parts: take the poodle for this, retriever for that, throw in a little beagle for good measure—and hope for the best.

I understand the desire to have the “perfect dog”, but how about working with us here? We do our best with what God gave us… and we unconditionally love our humans, warts and all. If all the energy, fuss, and expense were directed instead at understanding, appreciating, selecting and nurturing the right breed of dog for you, wouldn’t we all be happy in our own skin?

Are these good branding (let alone genetic!) decisions, or are crossbreeders simply slapping together what people will buy?

Me, I’d rather Dad get us a true mutt… a hybrid by nature.

• 12/26: Brand Judo
• 12/27: The three stages of social media anxiety
• 12/28: Popular and politically incorrect
• 12/29: “Don’t lipstick” and 25 other lessons of management
• 12/30: How to grow ideas
• 12/31: I got tagged
• 1/1: Tuning in by turning off
• 1/2: The first way you’re wasting your story
• 1/3: Trust Agent + ? = $$
• 1/4: Stones or Beatles?
• 1/5: Time is your enemy
• 1/6: 10 tips for an effective design process
• 1/7: Six (scientific!) steps for social media success
• 1/8: The audacity of design

Enjoy!

I might look similar to a Rottweiler, which is supposed to mean I’m tougher than Fifi (and trust me, I AM tougher than Fifi)…except when it comes to garbage trucks. They’re loud! Big! Can run me over! Why aren’t more dogs scared of these things??

I want to spread the word. How, though? Taking to the streets barking hasn’t worked out so well,  ’cause garbage days are WAY too frequent in the South End. Posting fliers at the MSPCA might be okay, but that seems sort of old school, and the whole lack of opposable thumbs also presents an issue.

Hmmm…I need something fresh. New.

I work hard each day (okay, okay, I come to work each day—maybe working hard is not quite accurate). But what I do hear from under the table in these meetings is that this whole social media thing seems to be the cat’s pajamas…the bees knees, if you will.

They say that with the right message and approach I can quickly spread my thoughts around and even get instant feedback from my peers.

That’s it!  I’m taking to the social media superhighway:

Dogs of the world! I bark out loud! Online! Come join me in my social media revolution! Let’s see how fast we can warn our species of these dang garbage trucks! Twittering, Facebooking, blogging—oh my, this is exciting!

(Cats, well, you can fend for yourselves. Go find some week old sushi scraps or find new layouts for each others Myspace pages.)

You humans talk a lot. I see you on your computers, your phones, in conference rooms or in hallways. You also talk to me (I think it’s strange that you think that I understand you or something… when really the only words that come through loud and clear are “cookie” or “treat”).

I might not understand your words, but I understand your body movements. Some parts of your human communication are just like our dog communications. Your bodies say a lot. I know I’m in trouble when Jessica crosses her arms and her body gets tense. She doesn’t even have to tell me to “lie down” because I know it’s coming. But crossed arms aren’t the norm for her. When I’m around people, especially new people, I look for a relaxed and open body position. People who look relaxed make me relaxed too. And when I’m relaxed, it makes it easier for me to pay attention to the other words I know, like “sit” or “paw.” I’ve learned lots of new things since being adopted, because I’ve taught my owners how to communicate with me. (I’m a good trainer like that.)

I can’t imagine having to understand you humans through a machine. I guess you are better at that since you don’t communicate through only barks and whines and body movements (though I have definitely heard you both bark and whine on occasion). But I like being face-to-face with you. I can read you that way, and I bet other humans can too. Just don’t forget, it’s not just what you say.

Sometimes how you say it is so much more important when you want to be heard.

We cats, on the other paw, are perfectly content to stay home and do our own thing while our roommates go to the office, or wherever it is they go, and do theirs. We don’t require constant attention, walks, treats, or bathroom breaks. We don’t look sad or act betrayed every time you leave the premises and leave us behind. We rarely even notice you’re gone. We’re far more self-reliant, and far less needy of petting and constant validation. Have you ever heard of a professional cat walker?

The truth is, cats are just too cool for school—or for work.