I'm a long-haired Red Husky and I belong in Alaska or the Yukon, not in Myrtle Beach, SC, where it is hot as hell much of the year -- which is totally miserable for me.
I used to live in Maryland with my master, Bob, and mistress, Jackie, and at least we had snow there (which I loved). In fact, one winter the snow was so deep that I got to sunbathe on a huge mound on the back deck that was nearly as high as Bob's barbecue grill.
I liked it there because we had a big yard, woods, birds and squirrels I could chase. Bob built a pond and every once in a while I could go there and take a dip to cool off. Life wasn't bad.
But nearly two years ago, Bob and Jackie moved us to a Myrtle Beach, SC, where it is hot -- I mean REALLY hot. And, hey, I have a very thick coat of beautiful fur and when it gets hot, I sweat (and stink, too).
Oh, before I forget, this place in Myrtle Beach is much smaller than our house in Maryland, and instead of a big yard with birds and squirrels, we have this little tiny yard with very few birds and no squirrels. And there are no woods to run in either, just streets that get so hot in the summertime they hurt my feet. So I've gained some weight in my old age. That's my excuse, anyway.
The thing is, when the warm weather begins, I shed. A lot. When I lay down on the carpet, I leave globs of white and reddish yellow fur behind. When I shake myself because I itch because I'm hot, fur goes flying. This happened in Maryland, too, but it is much worse here. More shedding in a smaller house. Not a good combination.
So every morning Jackie gets her swifter and goes around picking up my fur from the hardwood floor, and then she gets the vacuum and goes over everything, including the carpets. Then she brings the swifter and vacuum to Bob and shows him all the fur I left behind.
Every day. Over and over again she does this. "Dog," she says. "You are not worth it. When you go, no more dogs. You are a one-time only dog."
She doesn't think I can understand her, but I can and it hurts my feelings. I can't help it that I shed. I can't help it that it's hot as hell in Myrtle Beach and that just makes it worse. I can't help it that they downsized into this little house that's half the size of our house in Maryland. What do they expect?
So the other day, tired of all of this, Bob went to Target and bought Ion the Shark Robot. It's that round thing in the picture that is moving in on me while I'm trying to peacefully relax.
I try to ignore it, but it's hard. The damn thing has a mind of its own and it seems to just chase me wherever I go. And if I drop some hair along the way, it just gobbles it up and keeps on coming.
But one thing is good.
Jackie isn't grumping around quite as much telling me that I'm not worth it. I think maybe Ion the Robot has something to do with that.
I sure hope so.