It seems she has a problem with the amount I shed. I can tell this with how often she vacuums the house and brushes me. Without fail, she will brush me every other day and when she is finished there is a huge amount of fur which comes off. Probably enough to spin into a jumper, of course that is no exaggeration! Everyday, she vacuums downstairs. Mainly all the places I go, like the hallway, porch, kitchen, playroom, living room, utility, downstairs toilet. In other words, the entirety of the downstairs.
I know she likes a clean house, but I like to go into a room and smell my scent in there. It gives me a sense of belonging and makes me feel at home. We have a cream rug in the lounge, it has become more of a murky cream, with me and the two children. At the moment, she is just vacuuming it. I am watching her, whilst I am sitting comfortably on my favourite spot on the sofa. So far, she has vacuumed it twice already, but in different directions. I am not quite sure why she is doing this, but she is. The vacuum seems to be collecting quite a lot, but I am sure it is not all from me. It is mainly white, so there is a high probability, I am to blame.
Finally, she is finished! The vacuum is being put away but not before she takes the drum outside to empty it in the bin. When she comes back in, I wait eagerly, listening for the under stairs cupboard to close, to ensure the vacuum has successfully been stowed away. Then I slowly slide off the sofa. Stand on the freshly vacuumed rug and I…
‘LILLIA! What are you doing? Why are you rolling about on it, now? I have just cleaned it. Why couldn’t you do that ten minutes ago?’
I assume the back scratching on the rug, did not go down well by the tone of her voice. Anyway, she leaves me with it and goes into the kitchen. Once the rug is successfully covered in fur, I go and try to find her.
She is on her knees, with her head in the cupboard under the sink. I wander over to her and try to squeeze my head, into a ridiculously small gap, between her and the cupboard. She seems to accommodate me and even puts her arm around my head to hug me. I guess, I am already forgiven for the rug incident. As she gets up, I can see she is holding my dog brush.
What is her problem with the amount of fur I shed? She obviously has a massive issue with it.
There are many things about her, I do not like but I keep quiet about them. For example, last night she only cuddled me for half an hour, rather than a full hour. It left me feeling lonely, abandoned and rightfully rejected. Also, the other day at dinner she ate all her chicken skin, granted it was on her plate but usually, I can guarantee that skin would be mine and trust me her hips do not need the extra fat.
As I am so good at keeping quiet about my problems with her, I would expect the same gratitude in return. If she has a problem with me, she should grin and bear it. If she was not keen on the amount of fur a Basset Hound sheds, she should have really chosen another breed. I shed once a year, admittedly it is for three hundred and sixty-five days. So, what exactly is her problem?
I cannot stay mad at her for long as I do enjoy being brushed. She walked over to the space by the table. I took this as my opportunity to move into the space next to her and lay down, on my back, ready and waiting. As she knelt on the floor and her face came closer to mine, I looked up into her brown eyes and that is when I noticed it. The sheer audacity! She does not like my fur? Well, what is that on her face? She has let herself go. I think she might be turning into a werewolf.
He must have noticed. When he goes to kiss her, it must be like a Velcro effect, with his stubble and her moustache. He will have to mention something to her. I cannot go on like this. It must go.
Oh no! She is coming in for a kiss…it tickles. Achoooooo!
“Oh Lillia, it must be all your fur making you sneeze. Come on girl, let me brush you.’
Oh no! She is coming in for another kiss…Achooooo! Achoooooo!
I am definitely not the hairiest in this house!
A hound and a human 
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