How’s that for a title, eh? When we first got Maximus, I asked my students who have dogs how their moms (‘cause let’s be honest here) keep their houses from smelling like dog. The universal answer? “Yeah, our house just smells like dog.” Nooooooooo!
As much as I did NOT want to take on the responsibility of this 140-pound slobber ball, I knew it would be mine. More importantly, I knew I would be the only one who would really care if my house smells like dog, looks like dog, or tastes like dog.
I’ve been asked (a lot) how I keep up with him. So I’m here to tell ya how I do it. However, prepare yourself. It requires work—and a lot of it.
#1 The towel.
Oh sure…when that cute little snow-covered snout comes to the back door, it’s not that big of a deal.
But when Michigan winter (or spring…or fall) hits, it’s not so cute anymore.
The towel is a mainstay at our back door, and Maximus is trained to walk inside and freeze. He just stands there while we wipe him all down.
#2. I vacuum every day. Yup, every. single. day. And if I miss a day, I feel like dog hair creatures are going to attack me. It’s just my thing. I like to sit on the floor with my kids, and I don’t want that to include a bunch of dog hair. Blech! My saving grace is my BFF below. She changed my life.
#2.5 I have Alice do the hard surface floors with this bad boy every week.
#3 The Furminator. If you haven’t heard of this tool, I can promise you it’s right up there with DVR. That good. None of my dog-owner friends knew about it when we bought it. Now they all have one. It’s pretty awesome, and I make that my kids’ job.
While we bathe him at home in the summers (we have a hot water tap on our hose), we otherwise take him to our local Chow Hound which has a pet grooming area. They supply everything, and it’s only $10.00. Totally worth not doing it in our house!
#5. Open windows! Whether I have a dog or not, this is a necessity for me. Nothing grosses me out more than a house that has that “stagnant smell.” You know what I’m talking about? Usually while I’m vacuuming, I’ll crack a window or open the back door a bit. Then my husband will complain about how cold it is. It’s just a no-brainer—even in the winter.
‘Cause you know. That’s my view.
If Maximus were 100 pounds lighter, perhaps we I wouldn’t have to do half of these things. But it is what it is. I’m stuck with all his slobber and dog hair, and he’s stuck with my vacuuming and wiping off his feet. I think we’re gonna make it, buddy.