Thursday, July 31, 2008

Out Damn'd Spot, Fido, Brutus...

I couldn't take it any longer. That nagging feeling that the grease smell in my kitchen didn't belong to me.
So I did it.
I began my "toothbrush patrol", and pulled the stove out as far as I could get it (badly laid flooring). I scrubbed the sides of the stove, I scrubbed the cabinets surrounding it. I took the stove top apart and scrubbed that too (and I chose NOT to photograph the years of disgusting -- you're welcome).
As I slid my newly cleaned appliance back towards the wall, I could see some dog hair trapped underneath.

You should know that when we moved into this house, I spent over 12 hours trying to get it "clean enough" to feel comfortable moving my stuff into it. Most of the time was spent in the kitchen. Some of it was spent vacuuming dog hair out of the radiators.
I didn't have time to get the house cleaned to what I prefer to live in, but I figured I'd do that after we got settled.

It's been two months.

And apparently, the vacuum hadn't pulled all of the dog hair out from under the stove. Even having my Husband remove the glass from the stove door to pull dog hair out from between the two panes of glass, hadn't taken away the hair.

So with the stove back in place, I wrapped my gloved fingers around that hair peeking out from under the stove and pulled. and pulled. and pulled.
This is what I got.
The can of beans wasn't under my stove. It was added just to give perspective. I just hope it's potty trained.