Tail of The Flying Fur (Yep,it's a pet tail)

by Lura Langenback

© 11/16/01

Is it just me or are these family pets growing more fur than they actually need? Maybe it's so they can spread it around the house, slowly driving at least one of us nuts in the process. We have a dog. Speaking for her, DOG is such an ugly word. She thinks she's a cat. Not that unusual or so I've heard. I think it's weird but then so am I so who am I to talk.

Her name is Jazmine. Yes, I saw Aladdin and thought it was cute. Her ancestors think she's a cross between a poodle and a shi tzu, emphasis on the shi tzu. This dog totally rejects that and believes that she can purr. I know because I've heard her try! So much for the doggie side of being a dog.

This furball, excuse me, honored family protector has a LOT of long hair. She happily goes about the house leaving balls of doggie hair for the cat to find and eat. (that's another story) Personally, I think she does it on purpose. The big problem is that the fur piles up faster than the cat can eat it. It's only one cat, after all. The kids won't chomp on the fur. They don't like it. I'm not surprised. We have all found a single black hair (did I mention that she has black hair? It's crucial to the story) snuggling in the middle of whatever repast is sitting on the table. What a culinary delight that is!

Doesn't it seem to you that those wonderfully appointed vacuum cleaners they sell should be able to handle the job of picking up dog hair? You'd think so with the prices these people charge for their wares. But no, some unsuspecting soul like myself can go in and purchase what the salesman calls the 'best deal in the state' and what happens? Two minutes of blissful joy while the thing works on the offending hair and thirty minutes of frustrated trial and error, trying to extract that same hair from the roller. Repeat procedure. Repeat frustration. Repeat calls to the salesman, only to find him 1) with another customer (hapless fool), 2) out to lunch (that's sales speak for I have your money now and I don't want to talk to you ever again), 3) fired for lying to the customers (management speak for I don't want another lawsuit so I have never laid eyes on that guy before in my life.)

Meanwhile, the fur piles up unguarded by anyone except the cat, sneaking it's doggy hair self into everything in the house. Does this stuff have a mind of it's own? Of course it does. It's in the fridge, the laundry, on the counter, the stove, the TV screen. Our carpet is a brown/tan color or it was before the invasion of the flying fur from the feline's favorite friend. Now the carpet has this strange sort of black/tan/ brown look that reminds you of ghosts roaming the floor. They move every time the wind blows or in this case, the air conditioner. Makes the whole house look dirty. I shudder to contemplate what my Mother would think if she.... Well perhaps not.

Listen, I may be lousy with machines but I do have an imagination that runs wild. So after much pondering on what to do, I grabbed the dog brush and began to brush the carpet. Hey, what do you know, it works! Now if only that brush was room sized. If you're now thinking 'why doesn't that stupid woman just brush the dog?' the answer is 'it didn't occur to me'.