Kirtyhoo

Aaah, Sunday morning. I love to get up early on Sunday, make coffee and enjoy the quiet before the house begins to wake and stress takes over. But this morning, is different. I’m on a mission—a quest if you will. Dog hair is taking over my life.

I can’t take it anymore. It’s coming from our four-year old, Beasley. He’s a mix between a Beagle and Basset. So cute. But so hairy. It’s everywhere. The floor, our furniture, in the car, on our clothes. It’s like a scene from a Hitchcock flick. At first, it’s subtle. You see a hair, reach for the cordless vac and presto. It’s gone. Then, there’s another. And then ten. You dust daily but they’re everywhere. Everywhere you turn. There’s no hiding from THE HAIR. They’re advancing, multiplying. You can run, but they’re onto to you. Watching and waiting. And one day, you rip back the shower curtain and it’s there. On your towel and you scream.

So what do I do?

I’ve considered sewing Beasley a bodysuit to trap the hair. Like the ones they wear in clean rooms—with a hair bonnet and booties. He’d have to enter and exit through an air tight chamber and alarms would signal loose hair.

We could shave him—but the thought of seeing a naked, overweight hound dog…

Maybe we cover everything in plastic. One sweep of the house with my leaf blower and the hair is swept away. It could work.

Or, maybe I should just embrace the hair. I saw something like this on Project Runway last night. One of the designers, Chris, used actual human hair in his designs. So rather than spending hours daily with a roller brush to remove the hair, I walk proudly through my office with furry trouser pants. Our teenagers may need a bit more convincing—but if I arrange the hair in the shape of a Hollister or abercrombie logo…

OK, enough! The kids are waking up which means my quiet break is over. And Beasley needs a walk. Maybe if we walk fast enough, we’ll lose some of the hair on the way. Nice. It just might work.