When Ben and I got married six years ago, we bought a cheap vacuum cleaner because that was what we could afford at the time. It did a fairly good job, and served as a good starter hoover. Then, a couple of years ago, we inherited a nearly-new upright Panasonic from my grandparents, who had moved into a care home and no longer had any use for it. Its sucking action was superior to that of our previous hoover, and it enthusiastically dealt with spillages of coffee granules and cat litter particles. Before moving into our present house, we lived in a flat with wooden floors which were swept and mopped on a reasonably regular basis, so the hoover was merely part of a team of equipment which sought to remove everyday dust and debris whenever I had the time to do so. I was pleased to discover that the house to which we planned to move had lovely cream carpets, and vowed to keep them clean and dirt-free, but despite my initial efforts I can't say that the results truly satisfied me or made my carpets look like Sarah's. I hoped that my vacuuming technique would improve, and that I would find more time for wielding the hoover once I begun my maternity leave. More time indeed became available, but for the past six months I seem to have spent a tremendous amount of time on my hands and knees scrubbing and then hoovering, but not really making a discernible difference to the state of the carpet. Our beautiful black cat, Mandu, enjoys rolling around lavishly on the floor, and her hair is well-nigh impossible to prise from the pile of the carpet unless you apply some serious muscle to the job. To paraphrase a well-known saying, it seems that a cat owner's vacuuming is never done. 

This morning Ben suddenly said, apparently apropos of nothing, "Shall we buy a Dyson Animal? It's Timney-approved, so it must be good!" Despairing and ashamed though I was of our carpets, I am as a rule deeply sceptical about advertising and pay as little attention as possible to it. Generally speaking, I can usually recall the slogan and certainly the jingle but rarely the product's name or the way in which it claims to be better than its competitors, which obviously defeats the point of the advertising campaign entirely. But so much time has already been spent fruitlessly running the old hoover over the house, again and again and without particularly pleasing results, that this suggestion perked me up tremendously and I agreed that this was indeed an idea we should at least explore. We consulted the internet for typical prices, read reviews (which were all along the lines of "It danced around my house and left it sparkling clean!"), and then climbed into the car and drove to our local Comet, which helpfully had the very product we wanted on special offer. An hour later we were back home with our new toy, which Ben assembled immediately. A sense of great anticipation seized us both as we plugged it into the mains: would it live up to such high expectations? Should we have spent the money on a couple's spa weekend, or some designer baby clothes? Would I be thus spared a further fifteen years or so of manual carpet scrubbing, since Mandu is still only in her teenage years and unlikely to stop rolling around on the floor any time soon? The suspense was unbearable, so I pressed the big red button on the Dyson Animal.

A further hour later, once I had run it liberally over every floor-level surface in the house and then the staircase as a grand finale, I can honestly say that it is completely and utterly worth the money, and furthermore that I am a) delighted that we bought it in the nick of time, as Joshua is not a million miles away from starting to crawl and b) horrified by how filthy my house apparently used to be. In the course of the vacuuming marathon (during which I even used some of the additional attachments and brushes, having never done such a thing before in my life), we emptied the cylinder SIX TIMES. It filled up incredibly quickly with the inevitable cat hair but also with dust mites, talcum powder, handfuls of my own hair, crumbs, and I shudder to think what else. I could, at this point, bleat weakly about how I really have always tried to take proper care of my carpets, and honestly have hoovered more often than once every two years, but I wouldn't even believe myself now I have been presented with such appalling evidence. The grey muck that appeared tellingly in the transparent equivalent of a hoover bag during my circuit of the house begs to differ, and I feel instead that I should apologise earnestly to everyone that has ever visited our home, for they would have been completely justified in considering myself and Ben to be a pair of skankoids who paid only the most rudimentary attention to domestic chores. And the worst thing is, we were the first people ever to live in our house, so this disturbingly abundant grime is entirely ours. Horrors! And to think I have been allowing my baby son to lie on the living room floor. Perhaps future respiratory ailments have been averted with our purchase of a Dyson Animal. At least if Joshua inherits his daddy's childhood asthma, I can now honestly say I have done everything I can to prevent it from becoming aggravated. I now intend to become far more houseproud, now I have been confronted with the lamentable reality of my previously low standards. 

However, my dismay notwithstanding, I am now looking around the living room with great pleasure and pride, for the carpet is as good as new, as are all the others in the house for the first time since we moved in last summer. Mandu is currently asleep on a chair, and will undoubtedly have a good go at destroying my hard work when she awakes, but I now know that it is the work of a moment to restore the carpet to its original condition and colour, so shall not fret unduly. I cannot believe the difference this appliance has made, and am very excited that I too can now have gorgeous clean carpets, for whose state I don't feel the need to apologise when people come to visit. There is something deeply satisfying about watching your carpet change colour as a previously invisible layer of accumulated dirt is suctioned off by this marvellous invention, and I can see myself becoming far more fond of hoovering from now on. I can sincerely endorse the Dyson, and having just spotted a small morsel of pork-pie lingering on the floor following a late lunch, I am going to get it out again and let it dance around my living room. Yes, it was expensive, but oh my goodness it was worth it. Thank you, Sarah, for this wonderful recommendation - I only wish I'd bought one far sooner! 

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