I’d Like to Speak to the Manager

As previously mentioned, I have 2 golden retrievers - Peaches: Age 5, thicc, hungry, obnoxiously smart, obsessed with my husband, and shockingly my husband’s favorite dog, and Mango: Age 3 almost 4, in shape, slightly less smart that his sister, fluffy, my little shadow, perfect in every way, and my favorite dog.

Yes, I’m aware, having favorites is mildly frowned upon, but one of them is obsessed with me, gently taps me when he needs something, doesn’t fight me at bath time, and obeys me (mostly) with a smile - and the other tests the Jesus in me on the daily, nails me in the bladder and ribcage every morning leaving me to start each day fighting for my life, and randomly licks my sofa for no reason until there’s huge circular wet spots that look like someone peed on the cushions, and require a deep clean with a steamer to remove.

They’re perfect and should never change. This week, however, I have a grievance with the both of them.

The TLDR (too long, didn’t read):

At Christmas my mom got them a moose stuffie and it had this brown fluff on its mane. Peaches, the mischievous, perfect girl, is my shredder. She has never met a new toy friend that she didn’t want to rip open, pull its guts out, and leave its remains on the floor as a warning to all the other toys that dare enter her domain with fluff in their belly and smiles on their faces. It’s like she’s found a healthy outlet to let out her inner violence, and honestly, I get that. This time, however, the brown moose hair was left in clumps, everywhere, due to the both of them picking up the deceased moose carcass and playing with it all over the house. Out of defeat and a little protest, having just vacuumed that morning, I decided I could live with brown clumps for a couple of days. Unfortunately, this decision lead to multiple days of both my husband and I being routinely startled by giant jumping spiders.

I can explain.

The NTLTGR (not too long, totally gonna read):

*Disclaimer: I understand all of the ways that this situation could have been resolved with a vacuum or a broom. The irony is also not lost on me that I own a cleaning company. But here, we listen and we don’t judge.

What had happened was… Sunday morning (the day of the original vacuum), I'm walking into my living room and I look down and there’s this HUGE jumping spider near my feet and my favorite dog! I do what any good dog mom would do and take several steps back away from the two of them while contemplating if I really need two dogs and simultaneously hollering “oh immediately no! Not today Satan!”. Once I find my courage, and after realizing my husband wasn’t home so that’s why he wasn’t coming to my rescue, I slowly and cautiously walk towards Shelob (nerd reference, Lord of the Rings, you probably don’t want to look it up). As I get closer, I realize it is, in fact, (and as you’ve probably already deduced by now) moose hair. Freaking Peaches. I sigh a big sigh of relief and leave Shelob: Queen of the Moose Hair Realm on the floor because, while I do acknowledge she is in fact not a giant spider, it’s just too soon. Also, I still don’t want to vacuum, again.

Several times that day I had heart stopping moments due to Shelob, mostly because some of the “perks” of ADHD are strong struggles with object permanence and avoidance of boring tasks.

Monday, however, was when I nearly died. I’m just chilling, sitting on my sofa, minding my own business and talking to my mom on the phone; I shifted my position to stretch my legs and when I did I let out a scream! You probably guessed it, but OMG! there was a GIANT jumping spider across the room - and by my favorite dog again - who was just sweetly rolling around with his toy, happy as can be. You might think that I would have immediately remembered Shelob, and sighed a sigh of relief, and you’d be half correct. I did, in fact, remember Shelob, kind of. What I couldn’t remember was if THAT was THE Shelob, because this Shelob was moving around a little and it was dusk, and I couldn’t really tell. So, in fear for the safety of myself and Mango, I did what any good dog mom would do… and pulled up the camera on my phone and used the zoom function - all while my feet were securely up on the sofa and I had a better advantage of getting away from the 8 legged beast. Unfortunately, upon zooming in, it was a little unclear still, but after a couple of minutes I was mostly confident that it was, in fact, moose hair. Until like 30 seconds later when Mango rolled over, and because he’s a VERY fluffy Golden Retriever and his tail is like a fan - the GIANT jumping spider and/or moose hair JUMPED and disappeared! At this point I’m horrified, and am now doubting reality. Was this ever moose hair, did this giant jumping spider just make a home in my living room and thought we were cool with it because I didn’t smash it?! There has definitely been a misunderstanding, I am not cool with it. A couple moments later, Mango rolls over again and I can see Shelob by his body, but. this time his fluff blows it around again and it becomes painfully obvious this is, still in fact, moose hair.

At this point in time I've gotten off the phone with my mom, and of course sent her the videos of this horrifying, and slightly entertaining ordeal, and move on with my evening. If you’re wondering, or potentially yelling at the screen “DID YOU VACUUM IT UP?!” the answer is no, no I did not. Maybe 10 minutes later, my husband walks around the corner while trying to enter the kitchen and sees a HUGE jumping spider and lets out a “AHH!!” (we’re not spider people), followed quickly by a “oh… good grief this has been happening all week!” (dramatic, yes, as it’s only been 2 days thus far, but I get it). At this point in time I'm hysterically laughing at his near death experience, and immediately text him the videos of what had just transpired.

For time’s sake, the answer is no, again, I did not vacuum up the moose hair. Neither of us did. Not until four days later when I had to, due to repair men coming the next morning, and because I'm Southern and you just don’t let people come over to a gross house. I call this “ADHD crisis cleaning”. Though I recently read a comment, on a video about de-cluttering and cleaning, where a woman called it her “clutter combat mode” and I'm not mad about that.

So as I sit here enjoying my giant spider free home, I am officially declaring this post as my formal issue of complaint against my feral, but perfect, toy-destroying dogs, and their neglectful housekeepers who are responsible for nearly causing 2 grown adults to have multiple cardiac episodes.

Please enjoy the photo of Shelob, no longer physically with us, but forever in our nightmares.

-Ellie, 1/2 of the neglectful housekeepers