Click-Clickity

We have no carpet in our house. It is not some random anomoly or temporary phenomenon. It is intentional. By design. This is, however, the first house we've had that has absolutely no carpet. Our previous residence had carpet on the stairs and in the basement. The basement that flooded at least twice each year. Once it flooded due to a sewer backup. I'll state the obvious: liquid shit and carpet are not compatible. Neither are pets and carpet.

Carpet traps dirt. Carpet traps pet hair. Carpet traps odor. Carpets offer housing to all those little particles that aggravate my allergies. Carpet traps all the detritus we with bare floors can easily sweep up into great big piles every few days. Oh the ease with which a dustpan can be filled and unceremoniously dumped into a trash can! A bucket brimming with the Secret Cleansing Formula combined with a mop and voila! Clean floors, corners and edges inclusive.

Not so carpet. I know because I've lived with carpet. And pets. And sewer backups. And children. And allergies. All at the same time. Have you ever tried to clean a potty accident out of carpet? And we all know with pets and/or children, there will be potty accidents. Yet with a nice laminate or hardwood, those potty accidents are a breeze. Cat puke? No problem. Grab a paper towel and that squirty stuff. Over and out. An accident like that on carpet can make one late for work.

One of the downsides of no carpet is that the dogs' toenails go click-clickity-click-click-click.

Click-clickity-click.
Cosine paced on the landing.

Thump-thump. Click-clickity-click.
Dudley jumped off the couch and had a drink of water.

Lately Cosine has been having spacial and sight issues. Now she does more than just click.

Click-clickity-click-clonk.
Cosine crosses the room and knocks her head on the wall.

Clickity-clickity-click-thunk.
Cosine bangs her nose on the door frame.

Or worse.
Click-clickity-click-clonk.
Click-clickity-click-thunk.
Thunk-click-thonk-clonk.
Clickity-bump.
That is the sound of Cosine lost under the dining room table, trapped by legs of the chairs and searching for an exit.

She never complains about bumping her head. Cosine never complains at all. She may be demanding, but she never complains.

There's a lesson there.
I'm trying to learn it.