Saturday was 63 degrees with a dry west wind, the top of the maple just starting to go orange, and by 7:30 in the morning the first load was already in the washer. Wash day weather. I wait for it every year.
Once a year, in late September, every pet textile in this house gets washed on the same day. Most of these things get washed more often on their own schedules. Wash day is for everything at once, including the stuff nobody thinks about until it smells, before the windows close for the winter and the radiators start baking whatever is left.
The pile
This year's inventory, spread out on the backyard grass:
- The cover from Hank's orthopedic bed, which is the big one
- The new crate pad cover and the blanket that goes over his basement den crate, plus the worn T-shirt of Caleb's that lives inside it
- The sofa throw and the washable rug cover
- Three runners, two from the hallway and one from the back door
- Eight mudroom towels
- Mabel's window hammock cover, the fleece from her carrier and the flannel on her radiator shelf
- The hammock seat cover from the Outback
- Every soft toy Hank owns, which is eleven, which is more than I thought
Collars and leashes soak in warm water and dish soap in the laundry tub. The cargo liner and the life jacket get the hose.
Our order of operations
- Shake everything outside. Hard, at the far end of the yard, downwind of our neighbors' patio.
- Dryer first, ten minutes, no heat. This is the step that changed wash day. A short tumble with a damp towel pulls a shocking amount of hair into the lint trap instead of into the washer. I clean the trap after every load.
- Mabel's things go first, alone. Fragrance-free detergent, an extra rinse, no dryer sheets. She notices smells I don't, and the hammock is the one item she'll refuse to use if it comes back wrong.
- Then the cleaner dog things, then the dirty ones. Rug cover and throw, then the crate pad cover and seat cover, then the den blanket, runners and towels last.
- Warm, not hot, for anything with a zipper or a backing. The rug cover goes on cold, the way its tag says.
- Line dry while the sun's out. Caleb strings a line between the garage and a fence post on wash day. The rug cover still goes over the basement railing.
- Clean the washer last. Wipe the drum, run an empty rinse and check the drain filter.
The foam inserts don't get washed. They get vacuumed, sprinkled with baking soda, set out in the sun for the afternoon, flipped once and vacuumed again.
Why the drain filter gets checked
The first year I did all of this, in 2023, I did it at home, in one day, with no dryer step. Around load seven, the washer stopped draining. Caleb spent that evening lying on the basement floor with a flashlight and a baking pan under the access panel, pulling a felted plug of golden hair out of the pump filter while the water drained out on him. It worked, and nobody had to call a repair person, but that was luck. The dryer step started the next fall. So did the laundromat.
The laundromat trick for the big bed
The orthopedic bed's cover, bolsters and all, is too bulky for our basement washer. It technically fits. It just doesn't come out clean, and the machine walks across the floor on the spin cycle. So once a year it rides to the laundromat in town in the back of the Outback.
The trick is the same as at home, in an order that surprises people: dry it first. Ten minutes in a big laundromat dryer on low pulls most of the hair into their lint trap, which I clean out myself, instead of leaving it in a washer for the next person's work clothes. Then it goes into one of the big front-loaders on warm with my own fragrance-free detergent, and back to the dryer on low. I bring a lint roller and a damp rag and wipe both drums when I'm done. Dog hair isn't anybody else's problem.
This year it came to $9.75, and I read most of a library book while it spun.
By six o'clock everything was back in place and smelled like nothing in particular, which is the smell I'm after. Mabel inspected her hammock cover from three angles before she climbed in. Hank walked one slow circle on his freshly washed bed, lay down with a groan and started shedding on it right away. It's his bed. That's his right.
