Hair of the Dog

     I thought there was something wrong with my bagless vacuum the day the dirt cup was only half full after vacuuming the living and dining rooms.  It had always been full before. That was the day I realized that most of the dog hair had at last left the building.  I loved our Lab, the hair--not so much.  There is still cat hair, mostly Maynard's, but his furry, little body is no match for Garth's hairy harvest. Finally, it is safe to observe the 10 second rule for dropped food and I do not have to de-hair the furniture by his favorite window.
     But enjoying hairlessness does not mean we won't we get another dog.  I will never be the pet lover my husband is, but neither would I deny him something that brings him such pleasure.  And I find walking to the island without a dog downright boring. With Garth it was an adventure if only because with so few cognitive skills, for him it was a new place every time. A dog is also the perfect walking companion, you can talk to a dog and they never question or contradict. Now I have to talk to myself and pretend I'm wearing a bluetooth when I encounter a stranger. Our greatest consolation when facing Garth's departure was knowing we would get another dog. But it may be hard to find a dog that fits our criteria of being free, non-shed and non-yappy. Labradoodles have been suggested but they are $1000, a far cry from our first criteria.
     I am not sorry we put Garth down when we did.  I didn't realize how stressful it was just watching him struggle with his daily activities, until he was gone and I experienced unexpected relief.  It was the right thing to do.  But going without a pet for the sake of a hairless house and less complicated schedule is like extracting your teeth so you won't get cavities.  Even if I wind up with three bags full of hair on vacuuming day, I'd rather have a homeless dog than a dogless home. Because devotion comes with the dirt, and that hair is hitched to a heart, and life without that is a cup half full.