The Futility of Cleaning

Have you ever noticed how hard it is to keep things nice?  I attribute this to entropy -- the idea that nature tends to go from order to disorder.  Or, that things fall apart.  Or, that generally, once something enters my home, it's only a matter of time before it gets dirty or broken.  This may be partially due to the fact that I have five dogs, but those of you with kids may be able to relate, too.

My life was very orderly before dogs.  I lived alone with a cat.  Everything was always neat and tidy unless the cat got angry with me about something.  One time I was gone overnight and I came home to find that my cat had climbed my living room drapes and ridden them like a rodeo rider, then used them to take a wild ride to the floor.  They were ripped right off the curtain rod.  Another time I came home and my cat was angry at me and he had shredded a roll of paper towels all through the house.  He didn't believe in hiding his feelings.

I was compulsively neat at that time.  I cleaned up every tiny speck of dirt just when I saw it.  I vacuumed religiously.  I cleaned and dusted regularly.  It was just me and the cat -- we didn't make much mess and he didn't go outside.  There wasn't much to do but I worked hard to keep things looking wonderful.  All of my furniture was new and I was very proud of my home.

But somewhere along the way I got a dog.  First one.  Then two.  Next thing you knew, I had eight.  I did rescue and kept one or two.  I bred a couple of litters and kept a couple.  Before I knew what was happening, I was planning my whole house around managing the dogs.  I was now vacuuming dog hair and washing drool off the walls.  I used to be very strict with my cat about not scratching on furniture or misbehaving.  Now I was trying to keep dogs from chewing on table legs and scratching on doors.  No matter what I did, I couldn't keep up.  I had to start making concessions.  My house was never going to be as neat and clean as it used to be.  For my own sanity, I had to stop trying to be a perfectionist.

That's where I am today.  Of course, I have taken it to whole new depths.  I have five dogs now and I am a terrible housekeeper.  My house must look like chaos to other people.  I was engaged for a while -- to someone who is a compulsive cleaner.  LOL  He's outrageously neat.  He has OCD and I think one of the things that finally broke us up was the dog hair.  We still keep in touch.  If he texts me and I ask him what he's doing the answer is always, "Cleaning.  He lives alone.  His place is small and everything is brand new.  But he cleans every single day.  There were times when we were together that I could hug him and I could see him cringe or pull away because he thought I had dog hair on me.  It's possible I may have, but some of it was imaginary dog hair, too.  He was really weird about things like that if he was wearing black.  He virtually stopped wearing black when he was at my house because he was afraid of the dog hair.

It didn't help things when the dogs would chew on his things or eat his stuff.  It didn't matter how many times I told him not to leave sunglasses, cameras or shoes where they could get them, he wouldn't put them away.  And, dogs will be dogs.

So, I guess I'm a little sensitive about my house and my housekeeping skills in general.  The worse I feel about it, the less I feel like changing.  Besides, I am a much happier person now, with the dogs in my life and a messy house, than I was when I was alone with an ultra-clean house.  The disorder doesn't really bother me.  I just hate that it has interfered with relationships.