Hair today, Gone tomorrow

The other day I found myself muttering under my breath once again "damn dog hair". It's literally everywhere. Balled into the carpet, clinging onto my coat, hanging from my daughter's clothes- I swear sometimes I think it's everywhere but the dog.

But then one look at him and it's definitely all over him too. Another reminder that it will likely shed somewhere near me in the near future. It blows around like tumbleweeds in our house, despite our best efforts to vacuum and pluck it up with our hands. It's constant.

That ball of hair has grown with us over the past five years. From a tiny puffball to full on lion's mane its always been with us. I can recall times watching it swirl through the air when we have the music turned up and his head is hanging out the window. A smile so wide you don't mind the drool cascading down the side of the car. You never do forget the sight of that big black tongue flapping in the wind, pure joy radiating on his face.

I remember the way his hair matted when we first took him to the ocean. Salt, sand and dog hair. We would meticulously lay down a towel in the backseat in hopes to avoid having it spread further. Inevitably every single time he would manage to crawl his 70 lb. frame into my lap into the passenger seat. He was a dirty boy (not to mention smelly) but he was incredibly happy and I was happy we owned a washing machine.

I remember when I was pregnant how he would take his head and lay it on my belly. Getting to know P by sound before sight. When I lent out my maternity clothes to a friend I made sure to say "Hope you enjoy the clothes! The dog hair comes as a free accessory!"

I can't tell you how many times I have attempted to find the stray strand of hair that has worked its way between my mascara. How many times I have had to inspect a pacifier to make sure nothing was clinging to it. Sit on the floor in black yoga pants...forget about it.

One day however

it will no longer surround us

I will not get to see it dance around as I drive with all the windows down. I will not get to see it in the grips of my baby girl's hands. I will not take it to work with me everyday, the strands that were too stubborn to be corralled by the lint roller.

And oh how I will miss it so.

So for all the years you give us (please say it's a lot), we will embrace it, we will love you and we will invest in a really great vacuum.