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Life Maid Better Reviews from Real Customers
Fur, Everywhere
So here’s the thing about rescuing two Great Pyrenees mix dogs in the middle of February in Spokane… NOBODY WARNS YOU ABOUT THE FUR.
I mean, sure, people mentioned it. “They shed a lot!” But that’s like saying Spokane gets “a little snow” in winter. Massive understatement.
I’d been wanting dogs forever, but my old apartment on the South Hill wouldn’t allow them. When I finally bought my little craftsman near Manito Park last fall, I was like, “THIS IS IT. DOG TIME.” Spent months filling out applications, getting rejected, almost getting approved but then someone else snagged the dog first… the whole adoption rollercoaster.
Then the Spokane Humane Society called about these two bonded siblings. Brother and sister, three years old, owner surrender because they were moving somewhere that didn’t allow pets. (Who DOES that?? Ugh.)
Went to meet them and… total goner. Bo and Bella. Two big white fluffy mountains of love who leaned against my legs and looked up at me with those soulful brown eyes. Signed the papers that day. Brought them home during that nasty cold snap where it hit -4 degrees at night.
Flash forward three weeks. I’m sitting on my couch—which is no longer green but instead this weird white-gray color—staring at actual TUMBLEWEEDS of dog fur rolling across my hardwood floors. Not even exaggerating. Like little fur tornadoes just… migrating across my living room. I’d vacuum and within HOURS there’d be a new crop.
And the smell… look, I love my fur babies, but WHEW. That wet dog smell after they’d been playing in the slush in the backyard? Combined with that general doggy odor that had somehow permeated my couch, my throw pillows, possibly my SOUL at that point? It was a lot.
I tried everything. Special vacuum (broke after two weeks). Air purifiers (laughably inadequate). Those little plug-in scent things (just created a weird hybrid smell of “wet dog covered in fake vanilla”).
My breaking point came when I invited my boss over for dinner. Ambitious, I know. She’s this super put-together person with an immaculate house in Browne’s Addition. I spent the ENTIRE day cleaning. Vacuumed three times. Mopped. Lint-rolled every surface. Opened all the windows despite it being 28 degrees outside.
And then, I KID YOU NOT, ten minutes before she arrived, Bo and Bella came in from their pre-dinner backyard romp and shook themselves vigorously in the middle of my living room. It was like a fur explosion. A fur bomb. Critical fur mass.
I actually cried. Just stood there in my nice outfit surrounded by a fresh blizzard of white fur and cried.
Dinner was… awkward. My boss kept picking dog hair out of her pasta while insisting everything was “totally fine!” (It wasn’t.)
Later that night, after stress-eating leftover tiramisu straight from the container, I googled “how to surrender your soul to the fur gods” or something equally dramatic. Ended up on this house cleaning cost calculator for specialized pet cleaning services. At first I was like, “No way, too expensive.”
But then I looked around at my fur-covered life and thought about how I’d spent probably the same amount on ineffective cleaning gadgets already.
Called them the next morning. The conversation went something like:
“Hi, I have two white Great Pyrenees and I’m drowning in fur and despair. Can you help?”
The woman actually laughed. “You’re the third Pyrenees owner to call this month. It’s the spring coat-blowing season.”
“There’s a SEASON? Like, it gets WORSE?”
“Oh honey… yes. But we can help.”
They came two days later. A team of three people with equipment I’d never seen before. Special vacuum attachments. Enzymatic cleaners. Some kind of industrial-strength air filtration system. They spent FOUR HOURS on my modest little house.
When they finished, I didn’t recognize the place. My couch was green again! My floors were actually the color I remembered! And the SMELL. Gone. Not masked with fake flowery scents—just… clean. Like my house before the fur monsters took over.
They showed me all the fur they’d removed. It was… humbling. Probably could have made three additional dogs from it.
That was six weeks ago. They now come every two weeks, and it’s been LIFE CHANGING. Worth every penny. I’m not constantly waging a losing battle against fur tumbleweeds. I can invite people over without apologizing profusely. I’m not going through lint roller refills like they’re going out of style.
Don’t get me wrong—there’s still fur. I still vacuum between their visits. But it’s MANAGEABLE. Like, normal person levels of cleaning, not the fur apocalypse survival mode I was living in before.
Last weekend I took the dogs to Riverside State Park for a long hike along the Spokane River. It was one of those perfect early spring days where it’s still cold but sunny enough to feel hopeful. They romped through puddles, got muddy, had the best time. And you know what? I didn’t even stress about it. Just brought them home, gave them baths (creating yet another mess), and knew it would all be OK.
My mom keeps asking if I regret adopting TWO large dogs instead of starting with something “more reasonable” like a small, non-shedding breed. But watching Bo and Bella curled up together on their giant dog bed by the fireplace, occasionally looking up to check where I am… nah. No regrets.
Just a much larger cleaning budget than I ever anticipated. And honestly? Totally worth it.
– Taylor Reed, Spokane, Washington