I must get this off my chest: I despise light-colored carpet. I do. Light-colored carpet is for people who do not have dogs or children. I, however, have both. I also have cream carpet. It is very comfortable for the feet, and warm in winter, or it would have been replaced by hardwood flooring by now, or another, darker shade of carpet.
The problem with carpet and my dogs is that no matter what I do, I cannot win. All four dogs have black fur, so lighter shades will not work. However, two of those dogs also have lighter shades of fur as well. A large portion of Thor’s fur, being a Sibe, is white. Malayko, as a GSD, has a large portion of tan fur. What I need is marbled carpeting, which to my mind is hideous, and will clash with my furniture.
There is no winning.
This is the reason I love my Dyson. I can’t live without it. The rest of the year, I use it once a week, and return it to its closet until it’s needed again. During coat-blowing season, there is no point in putting it away, because it’s in use two or three times a day. Right now, I am barely even bothering to coil up the cord.
This morning, when I got up and let the dogs out, I could tell by the condition of the carpet exactly where each dog slept. There was a light dusting of fur right at the side of the bed where Malayko slept, another light dusting next to my purple stuffed unicorn where Thor slept, and two huge piles where Smoky and the Bandit slept by the dresser and the wall, one chocolate brown, one black. And down in the playroom were four matching piles that had been further distributed by small feet, knees, and hands. First thing this morning, vacuuming was required.
It never fails to amaze me how much fur comes off of a dog at this time of year. You would look at the piles of fur and expect the dog to be completely bald, yet she’s nowhere near that, and despite the hours you have spent brushing this four-legged person, the fur is still coming off in clumps.
At least, that’s the state of affairs in my house.
To make things worse, Smoky and Bandit, who are almost nine and have been with us since they were seven weeks old, are absolutely phobic about being brushed. They can’t stand it. I don’t know why. They have never been mistreated, never beaten, never punished by being struck with a brush or anything else, yet the slicker brush terrifies them, which probably contributes to the fur they’re dropping all over the place.
Hubby thinks buying them each their own individual dog beds might help save the carpet. He might be right, but I can’t help envisioning the cleaning of those beds and how much work that’s going to be. I have yet to see a dog bed that doesn’t cling to dog hair like a mother being forcibly separated from her child. And the beds will have to be large, as none of my dogs are the size of a lap dog. (That, needless to say, is my opinion of their sizes, not theirs. They regularly cram themselves onto laps, including the children’s.) I’m inclined to leave things as they are and just vacuum several times a day!
Anyway, I promised pictures of Thor today, so I took some this morning, which means that there are actually pictures of all of them, since everyone insisted upon being involved. Here they are:
There you have the entire pack of much-loved, very spoiled (again, my opinion, not theirs), beautiful four-legged, fur-covered people who share my home and heart. Happy weaving and spinning!