Living The Hair Book…

Hair, hair, it’s everywhere! On the rug, and in the air…

OK, OK, maybe that’s not how the children’s book goes, but it’s how things are in my house! No matter how often we dust, vacuum, or nuclear bomb the house, there seem to be hairballs disguised as tumbleweeds rolling around on both carpeted and uncarpeted surface alike no more than 5 minutes later.

:::sigh:::

It’s tough, with 3 dogs and 2 cats! It’s even tougher that my business office is at home, because while the kids are at school (or wherever) and my husband is offsite at his office, I get completely distracted when I inevitably get tripped by one of those tumbleweeds when I’m on my way to the bathroom. Where the heck did THAT come from? I vacuumed at lunch time, for Pete’s sake! I can almost hear the theme of The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly.

My kids don’t understand my angst, and neither does my husband, for that matter. The three of them were obviously born with the invisible switch that filters their pet hair vision, so they could go days, even weeks without feeling the need to vacuum. The filter is so good that if there’s a huge hair tumbleweed on the couch next to them, they just say, “Hey, MOVE OVER, will you?”

My husband and I used to do all the vacuuming ourselves, until one day, my husband conveniently decided that vacuuming would be part of the girls’ every day chores (convenient, I say, because I think it was that day that I’d asked him to vacuum up the hairballs, because I quit). So now, pretty much every other day, when I get the rolling of the eyes over “Someone needs to vacuum,” (atop the ensuing argument between the two of them as to who has vacuumed the MOST, and who should do it) I have to threaten near death for someone to get the vacuum out of the closet. My response is usually something witty, like “Well, then, I think maybe tonight we’ll have spaghetti, and I’d just LOOK CLOSELY, if I were you!!!”

One of our dogs – a dalmatian lab mix – is the worst perpetrator of the animals. He LOVES to get his hair everywhere! We have wine-colored carpeting in the livingroom; his coat is that of the Dalmatian part of him, meaning mostly WHITE. Here’s the spiteful part… he waits – that’s right, WAITS – until the carpet has been vacuumed, and literally within 10 minutes of the effort, he runs out to the livingroom, rolls on his back, and just HAS to scratch it maniacally on the floor… leaving a pile of white hair in his wake.That’s just one of the many antics that I just KNOW our dogs and cats use to conspire against us, for fun. I could just hear the conversation now from Montana, the Alpha: “River… you stick with the livingroom thing, you just make yourself look so loveably goofy that they can’t yell at you. Jed, you just grunt and groan and roll around in the hallway, and pretend you JUST CAN’T GET THAT ITCH! Athena, well… you just lay there. Your hair just falls off no matter what you do. Even better, I GOT IT! River, clean Athena, and when you do that, pull out some tufts of hair and just spit them on the floor! YES!!! In the meantime, I’ll just lay around and look innocent. I get in enough trouble on the occasions when I get in the garbage…”

I read somewhere that you can send your pet’s shedded hair to get a blanket or coat made from it. If that’s the case, I could definitely make a profit, and open a store! Do you think Disney would have a problem if I branded the line of coats “Cruella de Ville”?

At the end of the day, I guess that’s just a part of having furry friends in your home. I also have a theory (and I’m sticking by it) that all that overexposure to pet hair keeps us from ever developing any kind of allergy to it! I  do have to admit that when I go to someone’s house who doesn’t have a furry friend, it always feels a little… barren. Could it be the tumbleweed decor is more homey? I don’t know… maybe just what I’m used to.

You’ll never miss that homey-ness in our house, that’s for sure! If you want to feel all comfy-cozy, feel free to come for a visit… just don’t wear black!

Where’s the Diamond in the Pile of Rubbish?

Here I sit, in my office, covered with its standard New Year’s winter coat of papers, files, boxes, and other general office junk strewn around. I literally had to climb into the room  and tiptoe into my chair while skillfully avoiding the paper cutter and various other items just to make it to the desktop and this computer without breaking something or impaling myself.

Why, you ask, is this such a mess?

Well, it’s a new year. Time to clean out the old, right? Bring in the new? I find that every year, right after New Year’s, I begin cleaning out everything with zeal… and if I don’t get it all done before going back to work, I tend to leave what I started until I can… find… some… time…. to… get… it… done. Right.

For example, last weekend, I decided that after living in this house for almost 12 years, that while we were putting away the holiday decorations, we needed to move the furniture in the livingroom around. Desperately. Because come on,  let’s face it — how many people do YOU know who have had their furniture in the same formation for 12 years? Good grief! How many people even live in a house for 12 years anymore besides my alien family and me?? Anyway, that task alone — because I’d set my mind to it — took AN ENTIRE DAY. One room (OK, I’ll give you the holiday decorations all around the house). We’re not talking mansion-sized here, folks, just a plain ol’ 17′x17′ room. But when we were done, the dogs didn’t feel comfortable walking in there for awhile, because they were scared. That was actually a very funny thing to watch… if only they could talk! One of my dogs went to every singular item in the room and stared at it in a startled manner, as if to say, “What the heck is THAT doing THERE?”

The effort, of course, bled into the dining room and kitchen areas. And overly ambitious, I started on my office after that.

I own and operate two very different businesses, I manage the household finances, and my two children often find it necessary to dump their weekly work in here in front of me to review, so paper abounds in my sacred office space.  Eventually I start feeling claustrophobic, because even for the two weeks a year (usually the 2nd and 3rd week) that I keep up on my filing, it’s just too much to get it all put away!

This year’s been a doozy. It seems like somehow, the papers in here  reproduced on their own. Can that happen, in today’s digital world? It must, because I can’t seem to get to the bottom of it.

But I will.

It will probably take me into next week, but I’m determined to get to it and REALLY get it done. Because it’s a new year… and I don’t know about you, but from my perspective, last year really needs to be filed away and/or thrown out! I could really use that vial of fairy dust I haven’t been able to find for the past couple of years. And my rose-colored glasses. Because once I do, I will don both and never look back over my shoulder.

It’s time for a good year. Really, a SPARKLING one!! Change it all around! Look at everything in a fresh way! Make it work for you! THAT’S my resolution.

Now that being said, it’s been awhile since I’ve moved anything around in the office, too….

Help! My Dogs Are Fighting

This is not my usual tone, but I’m really, really frustrated and worried. Actually, my husband and I are both really, really frustrated and worried. So I’m hoping someone out here might have some insight that would be helpful.

 We have three dogs. Two are male, one female. We’ve had the males for 5 years; the female was a desperate rescue situation, and we’ve had her for about 2.5 years now. The males were puppies when we got them, and they have been together since they were very, very little (they came from the same foster care home through a pet adoption agency — one was actually born there, the other was barely old enough to be weaned when they got him). All three are fixed. The two males were obedience trained early on, and we have NEVER had any of them even threaten to bite a person.

Anyway, we never had any problems with pack position fighting until about a year-and-a-half ago. I’m not sure of the female’s position in the “pack” — she’s very quiet and submissive to us, but on the occasion they have started picking on her or tried to bully her, she has definitely showed them who was boss. However, on the other hand, the two boys have now had three bloody fights. The first one was in April ‘06; my husband and I tried everything then actually had to just about climb on them to pull them apart (which was difficult and dumb, as they are 65 lbs and 98 lbs). The 98 lb one had to get stitches. They soon after made up, and we spoke with their trainer and vet — both said to just watch them, it could just be vying for position, and it could’ve just been a sibling spat. So we did, and nothing, until Labor Day of this year — so that was 17 months without incident. Then the other one needed stitches. So we kept them separated for a few days, and they cried and cried until we let them be together again. And then, last night, it happened again. This time, it seems like the wounds are superficial, though one dog’s limping a bit.

So, we’re at a loss. The two dogs are otherwise gentle, playful, and loving, and have never shown any aggressive tendencies towards the family at all (including our two kids, who can basically sit on them without even getting a reaction). In fact, the dogs clean each other and sleep together often. Our trainer, though a naturalist in many respects, suggests electric shock collars for situations like that (he and his wife have three malamutes with the same problem, and they’ve used them with success), but we’re afraid that it will exacerbate the situation, they’ll identify the pain with the other dog, and fight harder, know what I mean?

:::sigh::: I have too many other things to worry about, than to have to constantly shell out the bucks to the vet’s office!

I was brought up in a household that taught me that pets become part of the family, and once they’re in you tough it out (unless, of course, there’s some unfixable serious danger to a member of the family). However, I can’t say I haven’t had fleeting thoughts since last night about looking for homes for one or both of the males, as much as I love them both. Because this is ridiculous – my biggest fear is that they’ll kill each other one time, when we can’t get them off of each other. Worse yet, that they’ll bite one of us trying to get them off of each other, and then we’ll have to get them put down.

There’s just no easy answer. I sit here, in my office, with one laying at my feet. The other male has been limited to the other side of the house – we tried leaving him (with the female) out in the backyard, but he whined and whined until we let him in. Now he’s in the other room whining and whining, because he can’t be over here (how very catlike). But I won’t let them be together until we figure this out. Once in a year-and-a-half is somewhat bearable, but this is twice in two months.

I don’t really want to have to find another home for them, because I know it would be next to impossible. People generally don’t want a 5-year-old dog when they adopt; they want a youngster. Plus, we’re the only family they’ve known, and I think that would damage the dogs mentally, too.  And we do love them. My kids would be DEVASTATED.

 My husband is calling the trainer today, but any suggestions would be helpful.