I knew it was going to be a big commitment adopting a dog, getting him out of the house, making sure he gets enough exercising, stimulation, socializing, separation anxiety with classes or work, inconvenience in traveling and all these other things. I knew all these going in, and like many others during quarantine, I prepared myself for it and adopted a pet. It turned out to be a relatively easy transition, he sleeps most of the time at home and doesn’t cause a fuss, my brothers help take care of him when I couldn’t get home, he turned out to be very pleasant to have around. However, the one thing that I did not anticipate was his shedding and his fur, which was very UN-pleasant to have around.
All animals shed and he was no exception, except that he sheds like a vacuum cleaner on reverse. He walks apartment and showers it with love and fur, almost like he’s protesting the veneer flooring and determined to make a carpet of his own. I look forward every Sunday, being able to vacuum last week’s sediments that have accumulated. It is satisfying yet it fills me with despair. Each part of the floor only has a few seconds of freedom after being vacuumed before it is graced with a confetti of black, white and brown hair. Seeming to come from nowhere, they float down and gently settle once again where they belong. Over the past year, I have learned that it is a futile task to hope for a perfectly fur-less floor, bed, clothes, car, and sometimes pans, but his fur is something that I will have learn to coexist with.
