This old house seems to breed dust.  I could vacuum, mop, and dust every day and I don’t think it would make much of a difference.  I kid you not.  I dust off the coffee table, and I swear, ten minutes later, you can write your name in it again.  Vacuum the rug and a split second later you can see the dog hair rise out of the pile like Neptune from the sea.

     Dust bunnies procreate faster than real ones.  Then they mushroom from teensy baby dust bunnies to killer rogues in no time.  I have to beat them into submission.  I saw the dogs running from one the other day.

     The ceiling fans grow a coat of fur more rapidly than a shaved poodle.  It’s downright scary.  I’m also constantly cleaning cobwebs from the ceiling and corners and yet they stay one jump ahead of me.

     Muddy paw prints on the kitchen floor are nothing compared to the tracked in salt at the front door.  Cleaning up that mess takes more elbow grease than what would fill a deep fry vat at Kentucky Fried Chicken.