Dog hair used to be the bane of my existence.
At times, I’d find myself thinking, “what would it take to build the perfect pet-hair capture system?”.
But it’s funny how some things grow on you.
The other day I was rummaging through a closet, and came across a bag with school supplies I wanted to donate. When I picked the bag up, it was covered in dog hair.
I started to brush it off, but stopped.
The hair belonged to my doggo Turk. He passed away last year. I moved since then, and still have his hair following me around.
It’s funny how some things seem like a bother, or a chore, or an inconvenience. But in the absence of, you’d do those things gladly.
I guess dog hair grows on you.