I've always been envious of people who are able to vacuum their pets.
Ever since I can remember, I've shared a home with at least 1 animal. Their care was my responsibility. Grooming was probably my least favorite part. Well, second least favorite but seriously, who likes cleaning up dog plop? When I was a child, our German shepherd, Charlie, had this beautiful mix of black, tan and chocolate brown fur. Since we both liked to run in the woods, his dog hair would end up with twigs, burdock, and whatnot snarled in it. This made brushing him so much fun!
One day, after my grandmother told me how she used to vacuum her cat, I had the brilliant idea to try it on Charlie. He was my best friend, my partner in crime and I figured that he would always trust me with anything.
Nope.
I took out my mother's canister style vacuum and dragged it over to the dog who was relaxing in the living room. Then, I scared the crap out of my poor dog! Charlie flew up from the floor and spun to land in my dad's recliner. Suddenly, I had 85 pounds of best friend snarling, hackles raised, with teeth itching for a taste of plastic hose.
Did you know that German shepherds can swear? I didn't until then. Each bark sounded like an f-bomb echoing through the house. Echoes that summoned my mother, who appeared out of nowhere (I'm not kidding, I think she had a portal...) to smack me and tell me to stop being mean to the dog.
I still can't bring myself to try to vacuum another dog.
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