Where's The Lint Brush

WHERE’S THE LINT ROLLER

It’s that time of year again. Spring. I do not start cringing because it is allergy season, or it has been raining for five days straight, or even that my weekends are booked solid with weddings, graduations, and garage sales. I cringe because I cannot see my couch under the dog hair. I cannot walk through the house without a hair cloud forming at my feet. I cannot get the clothes from the basket to the drawer without them all looking like a cashmere sweater. (Cashmere underwear is not cool.)
I have two beautiful, hairy, Shelties. Nine months out of the year I love them dearly. Come Spring that love…well…shall I say, wanes. Two weeks ago I started vacuuming twice a day. Masking tape lint rollers became my best friend. I put a sign on the front door. “People in black clothing, enter at your own risk.”
My husband has tried to stay up with the brushing. Last time we collect enough to make a queen-size pillow, for a moment…just a moment…I gave credence to that idea
After brushing the youngest, Bella, I became concerned. “Oh my gosh, William, something is terribly wrong with Bella.”
“What are you talking about” William replied while shaking his head at the hysterical sound of my voice
“She’s emaciated. She must be sick. Quick get the phone and call the vet.”
“Honey,” he sighed. “Bella has always been that size, you just thought she was fatter because of all that fur.”
I jumped up and headed down the hall.
“Therese, were are you going?” William said, concerned he had hurt my feelings.
“To shave my head and body.”
“What?”
“Well…if losing hair makes Bella look skinner…maybe…”
The look on his face brought me back to reality. Oh well, it was a glimmer of hope for a moment.
I heard a gagging sound from the other room. I went to investigate. Blue, the older of our Shelties, just threw up a hairball. I thought only cats did that! Another bad assumption. As I cleaned it up and was rethinking dog ownership, I heard our daughter shouting from downstairs, “Mom, the dryer quit running.”
“What are you washing?” I shouted back.
“My bedspread”
The dogs sleep with her. “Check the lint trap, I bet it is clogged with dog hair.”
“Ew, its really gross.” She whined. “Oh, also, have you seen the lint roller?”
“I just bought a five pack, look a little harder, surely they can’t be gone already!”
Time for a nap, I think to myself. As I lay back in my lazy boy I wondered, can you donate dog hair to Locks for Love?