My old workplace had a really nice backyard. I usually let my dog out there so he could play outside while I was working. Obviously I made sure he had a nice big bowl of water and such every time.

There was an upturned plastic table near some bushes towards the end of the building, and every time he was let out he’d make a beeline for that upturned table, because it had the delicious stagnant water with dead leaves and rubbish in it.

He’d also get tangled in the legs of the table and then stand there, silently staring towards my office.