when you walk into your living room and it looks like a fur factory exploded?

That’s my life. Three cats – Mittens, Whiskers, and Shadow – plus a golden retriever named Buster, all squeezed into a 900-square-foot apartment with my wife and our seven-year-old daughter Sparkles. If there’s a surface in this house that isn’t covered in pet hair, it’s because I just cleaned it. And then someone sat down. Or the dog shook. I’ve owned a lot of vacuums, and I get asked constantly by other parents with pets

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