We have a big dog. A very big, very white, very hairy dog. Much as we love him to pieces, the big white hairy dog has one down side. The big white hairy dog sheds like a Yeti. Of course, this isn’t a problem if you live in an igloo, or you have someone you dislike you can invite over who’s allergic to dog hair, or you’re someone who likes to knit with dog fur. However, since I don’t fall into any of those categories, the abundance of dog hair is not something that makes me particularly happy. Our previous dog was all black. He was also a big shedder, but it was a lot less of a problem because we had dark floors and black furniture so all that black fur just blended right in. But then we got Monty, who is a completely white golden retriever, and with one shake of his coat, it feels like we are living in a SciFi movie called “The Dog Hair That Ate the Universe.” He sheds so much fur, in fact, that I am convinced if we shave him, he would actually turn out to be a Chihuahua. Now, I wouldn’t say that I’m completely obsessive about keeping our house clean, but something about all the dog hair transformed me from a quiet, semi-clean suburbanite me into the Evil Queen of Vacuumville. In the morning, I would run the vacuum after breakfast. By lunchtime, the dog hair dust bunnies threatened to take over the house and I had to drag out the vacuum again. Finally, there was one more vacuum run before bed in the hopes that when I woke up the next day the house would still be dog hair free. This, of course, never ever happened, and made me suspect that the dog had an evil plot to shake his fur all over my house while I slept just so he could see me freak out in the morning. And then one day the vacuum gods bestowed a gift on me. As I was watching TV and, of course, running the vacuum, I saw an ad for a robot vacuum. It would run around the house, as needed, on one charge, collecting dog hair and furry dust bunnies from every corner, with nary a push or a shove from me. I quickly went online and immediately ordered the vacuum, express delivery. The next day my robotic vacuum arrived, I plugged it in, and let it go. It was awesome. It sucked up all the dog hair faster than the dog could shed it and my house was a shiny thing of shedless beauty. But just as I got ready to celebrate, I realized we had a bigger problem. My dog is not a big fan of the regular vacuum cleaner. It stresses him out. And when he gets stressed he sheds. The robotic vacuum, it seemed, made the dog really, really stressed. And since it was running all day, the dog shed much more … which made the robotic vacuum cleaner run more … which made the dog shed more. In my effort to solve a problem, I had created a larger one and now we had what could only best be described as a vicious circle of fluff. At dinner that night, I finally threw up my hands and admitted defeat. “I can’t keep up with all the dog hair,” I said to my husband. “So, what are you going to do?” he replied. “Get rid of the dog?” “No. Of course not!” I said. “I’m going to get new white furniture and white rugs.” “But isn’t that going to get really dirty?” he asked, “Yes,” I said. “But at least you won’t see the dog hair on it.” — For more Lost in Suburbia, Follow Tracy on Facebook at www.facebook.com/LostinSuburbiaFanPage and Twitter @TracyBeckerman.