WASHINGTON — Chris Delaney typically unwinds from his job at Discovery Communications by taking leisurely weekend drives or flipping through stacks of vinyl at used record stores. But on a recent midweek afternoon, the broadcast ingest operator was releasing his stress — right there at work — by stroking a bearded dragon, a household lizard with thankfully inert spikes.
“He’s very mellow,” Delaney said of the coldblooded creature resting on his lap. “Applying a warm hand puts this guy in a good mood.”
The good vibrations were flowing in both directions. How could you tell? Well, Norbert didn’t puff up his body and deploy his defenses, and Delaney didn’t rush to the medic with gouged fingertips. Quite the opposite: After finishing with Norbert, he requested a cuddle with another member of the visiting menagerie from Squeals on Wheels, a traveling petting zoo based in Potomac, Md.
“I think my favorite was the rabbit,” Delaney said after several failed attempts to soothe an African pygmy hedgehog named Tweedledee. (Or was it his brother, Tweedledum? Hard to know, because all hedgehogs act like twitchy acupuncturists.)
At the mention of his name, Rex the Velveteen rabbit attempted an escape, thumping his head against the cover of his wooden bin. Perhaps he needed an animal to hold, too.
Embattled masses
In these anxious times, the embattled masses are resorting to all manner of succor. We meditate in the morning and drink a stiff one after work. Yell at traffic on the way to laughter yoga. Binge on Netflix all night and down cup after cup of pour-over coffee the next morning.
And now, with the rise of office animal parties, you can stroke a bunny, cradle a puppy or massage a tortoise’s neck on company time. If your colleagues or clients grow irate over unanswered emails, tell them to submit a complaint to Slinky, the blue-tongued skink.
“Animals make the environment less stress-y,” says Alan Beck, director of the Center of the Animal-Human Bond at Purdue University. “When you talk to another person, your blood pressure goes up. When you talk to animals, it goes down.”
During the tensest time of the year, Dawn Bailey, director of human resources at Aronson accounting firm in Rockville, Md., arranges special treats for her bleary-eyed accountants. For this tax season, she hired Squeals on Wheels. “All I wanted to see was the teacup pig running down the hallway,” she said. Unfortunately, that fantasy didn’t fly, as the oinker couldn’t breach the conference room.
Workplace stress is a real affliction, of course, but so is Instagram-oholism, especially among millennials. Which makes the office animal parties a major draw.
“We don’t put ordinary experiences from the office on our social feed,” notes Jeff Fromm, an author of books on the millennial generation, “just the extraordinary.”
The unconventional perks can also help employees forget — or at least forgive– their long work hours. Your 12-hour day may prevent you from owning a dog, but you can frolic with one on the clock.
“For many people today, particularly millennials, there is a definite blurring of the line between personal life and work,” said Jason Dorsey, president and co-founder of the Center for Generational Kinetics in Austin, Texas. “Millennials often know they won’t be able to retire, so why not have fun at work?”
Thanks to this trend, animal facilities across the country are accumulating miles on their little red wagons. Honey Hill Farm has led camels to a shipping logistics provider in Cincinnati (for Hump Day, of course) and released hopping kangaroos in its hallways. Brooklyn’s Foster Dogs has let its rescue pups loose at various New York offices. Austin-based Tiny Tails to You has chilled out such pressure-cooker players as Apple, Facebook, Dell and Whole Foods.
Of course, animal encounters during business hours can involve some risk, so keep a spare shirt and dry shampoo in your desk drawer.
“I don’t want her to go to the bathroom in your hair,” Squeals on Wheels’ Grant Phillips warned a Nest DC employee as a chicken blazed a northward trail.
