NOT The Fur Coat I Had In Mind

I have recently come to an appalling conclusion.

Apparently, when I am at work or otherwise indisposed, Ralph has been wearing my clothes. Shocking, to say the least. I hadn't pegged him as a "frock" boy.

Ralph is my dog. He's a large white beast, with lots of fur to spare. It doesn't matter the season, he's a generous sort in this respect. His downy undercoat collects in tumbleweeds that waft eerily with the air currents, implying gunfights, and saloons and such, and picking gunfights with the vacuum cleaner motor.

I know what you're going to say: "Isn't it kind of obvious that if you go picking a giant MOP for a dog, that a hair or two is bound to make an appearance?" All I can say is: love is blind.

Hey. I am a seasoned parent. Verily, I read all the books and did all the research before diving into dog ownership. About this breed, I read: "They shed. A lot. Buckets! No, really, you can't possibly imagine! Go back! Do not pass go, do not collect $200."

But (like a seasoned parent) I ignored all the books, and went right ahead with my gut instinct to "pick the cutest one". Gut instinct, I should mention, is highly overrated.

I must say that overall, Ralph has been the ideal companion: compliant, trustworthy, easy-going, sedate. He is a walking (shedding) bean bag chair. Mohair gone awry, but in a lovable sort of way. My main issue with the hair isn't the tumbleweeds - which my children gleefully ferret out like so many Easter eggs (at 5 cents each!)

My issue is that:
1) it is all over my clothes, and
2) it is not the same COLOR as my clothes.

Ralph is white. I wear a lot of black. Sue me.

I was prepared (at first) to give up the black portion of my wardrobe to the cause. Puppies will do that to a person's brain. But black is slimming, you know. And it matches everything. And, darn it, I look pretty decent in black. Navy blue, frankly, is a compromise.

I'm sure that most of the owners of polar bears have the same problem. But they're just so darn cute, what can you do?

It was pretty clear from day one that there would be fur issues. He had a lot of hair back then, too, but he had less skin acreage, so at that time only seemed "moderately inconvenient". Now he weighs more than I do. Which means that not only is he depositing large quantities of fur on my fashion collection, he's probably stretching out the necks.

When, exactly, Ralph started wearing my clothes is a mystery. It wasn't immediately obvious, probably because he started with the lighter colored "summer" stuff. But somewhere along the line, he caught on to the slimming effects of black. I tell you, he has no respect for fine wool gabardine. Or perhaps he does…

The thought of him rolling around in my Christmas Duster gives me the shivers. Velvet apparently offers much the same tangible canine delight as a dead squirrel. "Oh, it's the new look. Angora/velvet blend! Do you like it?" (You have to thing fast when you don't have a lint brush on you.)

At this point, the only way I will rid my house and my closet of white dog hairs is to install a jet engine intake through a hole in the roof and let 'er rip. But you see, my children are very light. So it's not really all that practical.

Anyway, "fur" is coming back. And it's all appropriate and seasonal, now that the temperature is dropping. Fluffy white trim around the sleeves and hem (especially on red garments) has proven quite popular; even fetching, provided the furry trim stays pretty much in place. Otherwise one would look like a molting elf. I would imagine.

It isn't the fur coat I had in mind, but I'll do my best to wear it with grace.