We’re the kind of men with white painted wood floors and cream woolen carpets. You know, fussy. That’s one of the reasons why, in 20 years together, Jack and I never had a dog.
But we wanted one and after doing some research into hypo-allergenic breeds landed on a non-shedding Labradoodle, so very nice and tidy. My grandma’s poodle Colette, rest her soul (Colette’s, but definitely Grandma’s too) was awful and yappy and neurotic and smelled super strange but from what I remember she was neat. Felix Unger neat.
Upon entering our home for the first time, Waldo beelined for the cream woolen rug to claim it as his special spot for bladder and colon relief. The inexpensive, colorful and intricately-designed Turkish carpet that could easily have been peed and pooped upon for years without showing a thing? No sir.
Also while he doesn’t shed, he does possess the characteristic “fleecy” Labradoodle coat that should be rebranded for truth-in-advertising purposes as “Velcro, Now With Indoors-Only Auto Release.” He rolls in everything vile imaginable, then trots inside to deposit it, like Typhoid Mary, but with visible pathogens.
Waldo's forced us to unclench our jaws and other anatomical parts regarding the state of continuous interior disarray, undoubtedly good for our spiritual development. He is saving me from turning into a [slightly better-smelling] version of poor Colette.