Because if it is, I am in love, love, love with my brand spanking new Dyson DC17 Animal vacuum cleaner!
Seriously. In love. Vacuum everything in the house in love.
Now, I won't pretend my knees weren't knocking together in time with my heart as I handed over my debit card for that almost $600 purchase. "For a vacuum cleaner!" my mind kept screaming at me. "Are you freaking insane? It's a vacuum, not a freaking car!"
I'm glad I was able to wrestle my miserly little mind into submission. I got that thing home and after a few tears and cuss words, figured most of it out. I'm not the most technologically gifted person and the instruction manual was done by someone who figured anyone who could afford the product was supposed to have a couple of decent brain cells floating around. Alas, not I.
I first tried it on the five by eight rug in the front room (I only have two rugs in my house, which would seem to make an expensive vacuum a waste of money, but please consider the new sof-zilla, two cats, two cat trees, loveseat, curtains, and if Jason doesn't move the time for the damned virus scan thing, his ashes.) Um, where was I?
Oh yeah, so I'm merrily vacuuming the little rug, having fun with it, it seems like it has power drive it is so easy to push forward. Then I look down and see the cannister is completely FULL! On a rug vacuumed with the old thing two days prior!
My back room rug, which is something like eight by ten feet, I had to empty the can three times!
And quiet enough not to interupt naptime: