Yesterday a box was delivered to my door.
Not a gift, rather an anticipated delivery of something I had ordered. Well packaged, with each item carefully handwrapped in gorgeous red tissue paper. Unpacking it should have been a pleasure.
But something was missing. Don’t get me wrong, the order was complete. Everything was there as expected.
Yes, that’s it: everything I expected was there.
But nothing unexpected.
No hand-written note. No surprise extra gift. Nothing.
Nothing to suggest that anyone at the company had taken the time to make that little extra effort. To let me know that I, *I* and no other, was their very favourite and most loved customer of all time.
Result? My excitement waned and I simply packed the items away in the cupboard for later use. The whole experience was, well, unremarkable. Not worthy of being remarked upon. I didn’t tweet about the amazing customer service. I didn’t Instagram carefully filtered images of their products. And I didn’t go onto Facebook and let everyone I know that Happiness (consumer-style) came in a box from THESE people (with apologies to The Minimalists, for even suggesting such a thing!)
I’m going to hazard a guess that this is your dog’s life.
Same food for dinner. Same walk every day. Same toys, same game, same time of day. Even if you use treats, I bet it’s one same-old treat every time.
Did you ever give your dog an extra treat for doing something?
I don’t mean chucking 2 (or even a handful) because you were in a hurry.
I mean you gave one treat, the dog took it, and then you gave another one. Because you wanted your dog to know you were delighted. That what just happened deserved extra recognition. That you wanted to be sure your dog understood what it feels like to be your “very favourite and most loved customer of all time”.
Try a different kind of treat.
Try taking a longer walk.
Try producing a toy when your dog least expects it.
Jeepers, let Christmas come early and give your dog 2 treats AND a game!
Because when you unexpectedly deliver extra, you deliver delight.
Will I shop with that company again? Probably. They are, after all, the only place to get the great quality thing that they sell.
Am I already anticipating it? Am I already searching their website looking for another opportunity to repeat that awesome, unexpectedly-rewarding customer-focused experience? To re-experience “extra”? Nope.
So, which kind of consumer do you want your dog to be?
The one who has to come back to you because you are the only one who has what they want?
Or the one who is looking for ways to interact with you because it makes them feel SO loved? Who is so unexpectedly delighted by you that they post a selfie to share the experience with all their friends? (Yes, dogs tweet too! Check out Harris the wire-haired dachshund for a great example.)
Be generous. Be appreciative. Be unexpected.
And deliver extra.