The Pet Hair Eraser Learned About Purpose

The Bissell Pet Hair Eraser showed up in a box on a Tuesday. BW had ordered it. The dog had been shedding like the world was ending. Our Subaru looked like we were transporting a poodle corpse. The child watched me unbox it with the kind of focus she usually reserves for Sharpies.

It was light. That was the first thing I noticed. Cordless. Meant to be grabbed quickly. Meant for the in-between moments. The couch. The car seat. The spot where the dog had decided to molt into the fabric like some kind of fur-based art installation.

For three weeks it worked exactly as promised. I'd vacuum the backseat before Uber runs. BW would hit the couch on Sunday mornings. The Pet Hair Eraser hummed its little song and filled with dog hair and we emptied it and felt like we were winning something. A small thing. But winning.

Then the child found it in the garage.

Not the vacuum part. The handheld part. The part that detaches. The part with the handle and the trigger and—I understand now—the perfect weight distribution for a seven-year-old to carry it like a rifle through the house while making what I can only describe as suppressing fire noises. Pshhhhhhhht. Pshhhhhhhht. Fully committed.

I found her under the kitchen table. The Pet Hair Eraser was pointed at the dog. The dog looked confused. The child's eyes were closed. She was making the noise with her mouth. The actual vacuum was off. She was just—performing the act. Rehearsing.

BW found this hilarious. Which meant I was outvoted. (This is how decisions get made in our house. I have learned to accept this.)

Now the Pet Hair Eraser lives in two states. It is a cleaning device on Sundays. It is a weapon on Thursdays. Sometimes the child leaves it on the front steps pointing at the driveway. Sometimes I find it in the bathtub. Last week it was buried under couch cushions like a bone the dog forgot about, except the dog didn't bury it. The child did. As a surprise. For me. To find later.

The handheld part still works. Genuinely. I used it yesterday on the car seat and got three days of accumulated golden retriever out of the fabric. It performed. It did what it was made for.

But it also learned that it could be other things. That a person could hold it and dream up reasons to carry it. That the original instruction manual was just a suggestion. A starting point.

Right now it's on top of the refrigerator. BW put it there. The child was getting too creative with the barrel. The dog sleeps underneath it, not realizing the thing that removes her fur has temporarily retired from the job.

I think the Pet Hair Eraser knew exactly what it was getting into when it arrived here. It just didn't know when.

If you liked this story about the Bissell Pet Hair Eraser Handheld Vacuum, you can buy your own on Amazon. Remember, we're BFF if you do.