Duck tape didn’t work either

Do you have any idea how many feathers are in a feather throw pillow? I do. A lot. Somewhere in the neighborhood of a zillion.

Once upon a time, I had a pretty embroidered feather throw pillow on my couch. It was super comfortable for napping and settling your laptop on when it needs to be a little higher. Then a bored or frustrated dog decided that it had lived long enough and now must die. In a violent fashion.

When I got up this morning and wandered, bleary eyed and still in my Mickey Mouse jammies, into the living room I found the crime scene. Instead of blood there were feathers everywhere. At least two inches thick around the sofa, feathers also clung from the curtains and the lamp shades. It almost looked like it snowed in the living room.

The Bandit and I grabbed garbage bags and started stuffing handfuls of feathers inside. I had no idea ducks were so static cling-y but once those feathers touch you,  you can’t get them off. So soon the kid and I were both covered with ’em, too. We managed to fill two small garbage bags and it didn’t even look like we’d made a dent. 

We thought the vacuum was the thing. You’d think so, right? Not so much. The feathers simply clung to the sides. Some got sucked up and swirled around the Dyson, but they really didn’t get sucked up until I tried the hose attachment. That did the trick so long as you moved in a zone defense. I mentally placed a grid over the living room and sucked up two square feet at a time. I thought everything was moving along perfectly, until I turned around. 5,000 feathers had resettled over the clean grid.

We emptied the vacuum twice and threw away three bags of feathers. There was still a quarter of the feathers left in the pillowcase. I keep finding them everywhere.

Jojo Kitty helped, as I’m sure you can imagine. He kept liberating the feathers from the bags by making nifty gashes in the sides. I’m not sure he’s had as much fun since the Christmas wrapping. And you know the dogs had the time of their lives making the mess in the first place.