Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Holy Hairballs Batman

I just finished grooming the Yellow Dog. Brushing and plucking and pulling, for she appears to be shedding out every last Husky hair from her body. An old lady by dog years at 13, Yellow Dog has resigned herself to being an indoor doggie; ice and very cold temperatures don't do much for her anymore. Her body appears to be letting her, and us, know that she doesn't really need the layers of fur any longer, and thus is dropping it on the carpet, the kids' fleece pants, and my black cashmere sweater.

While Bear napped this afternoon, I took what I thought was a few minutes to grab the dog grooming mitt (a great thing I learned from my horsey days) and go to town. A half hour later, the darned dog still had all kinds of hairballs falling off her now-skinny body (hairy dogs appear much fatter than they really are).

Adding to the problem was the lack of humidity in our air right now (it is 10 below at our house and so dry we keep the humidifier on all day/night), so the baby-fine hair stuck to my clothes and went up both our noses. Ever try to get dog hair off something? Can't be done. Damn stuff floats around like it has a mind of its own.

Right now old Y.D. is stretched out on my office rug, exhausted from her battle, with her back to me. She looks like she has been attacked by Mothra.

I'll have to give her five dog cookies to make up for it.

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