It was immediately apparent that Papillons were not a low-shedding breed as the internet had claimed (Further research shows them as moderate shedders, if he's a moderate shedding dog I don't want to see what a heavy shedding dog is like). My parents were not pleased, my mother especially. She was not going to vacuum the house every day.
My dad does what he always does, which is suggest we get some sort of new high-tech gadget to deal with the problem. My mother was skeptical, she was a veteran of my father's zany schemes. Somehow, he sold her on the Roomba, and a little robot was introduced into the home.
My dog, like most canines, wasn't the biggest fan of vacuum cleaners, but he tolerated them. Whenever anyone was vacuuming, he just got out of the way and waited for it to be done. He'd obviously made the connection that vacuum cleaner = operated by people, because when dad first turned it on and fiddled with it he was fine, but then as soon as dad stepped away and the thing started moving by himself, he damn near just about jumped out of his skin.
He stared at the Roomba in abject horror, then looked up to me, entreating me with his puppy-dog eyes to utilize the wizard magic he assumed I was capable of and make it stop whirring around on its own. "You're fine," I reassured him, "you'll get used to it." Unable to speak magic wizard language, he did not take comfort in my words.
He eventually screwed up his courage and stopped hiding behind my legs, slinking towards the evil intruder in an attempt to investigate. When barking at it failed to garner a response, he attempted to engage it by sniffing wherever he presumed its butt was. The Roomba slowly turned, and, to my dog's terror, started slowly whirring towards him, gliding menacingly over the polished wooden floors of the kitchen.
My dog attempted to stand his ground, barking a warning at the Roomba, but when it became apparent this strange creature was not going to back down, he turned around and made an expeditious retreat. He soon learned he was faster than the thing, so he didn't feel the need to gallop around at full speed. He just trotted away with his tail between his legs, whimpering and looking behind him every so often to check if the beast was still chasing him. It was.
He sought my assistance by hiding behind me once more. I was too busy laughing to comfort him. The Roomba drew closer and closer, the pitch of his whine got higher...
And then the Roomba bumped against my foot, and did what it is programmed to do when it his an obstacle, which is to turn around and go the other way. Feeling he had to get the last word in, my dog peered between my legs and gave one last growl at the retreating vacuum robot. The pack leader had used her strange wizard powers to conquer the evil beast!
Roomba was set to run on a daily basis, so this sort of behavior continued for a few days until he realized it couldn't climb on top of couches like he could. Dog had outsmarted the evil beast without even using wizard magic! Victorious, he is no longer bothered by the Roomba.
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