The preparation always throws us for a loop. The clutter needs to be put away and yet it never seems to have a proper home. Still, the surfaces are clear which makes my heart happy.
The humans put my favorite toys away.
As soon as the door opens at the end of my longest day of the week, the clean hit me in the face. It’s glorious.
All of my smells are wiped away, how will the others know I own it?
There is not a speck of hair on the couch nor in the corners of the stairs. Might only last a couple hours, but still.
She STOLE my fur. How DARE she?!
The food is not scattered all over and sits neatly in a pile inside the bowl.
I LIKE TO EAT OFF THE FLOOR!
The floor feels different, all the beds are made, the bathroom sparkles, and the sink shines.
Yeah, I don’t care bout those. Carry on.
There is always a couple of furry beasts, making peace for a hot second, to greet me at the door.
Thank God you’re home. You’ve been gone FOREVER!! Now open the front door so I can guard the house properly/watch the squirrels.
Cleaning day is the best worst day.
Live, Love, Teach 
I feel the exact same way.
I LOVE how you wrote with the two voices/perspectives in this piece. So clever and spot-on. I’m a pooch owner, and I so relate to this feeling. It’s a rare, short-lived thing, isn’t it? But, oh so glorious.
I really enjoyed the rhythm of this and discovering the thoughts of your pets and their disgust at things being clean and tidy. It was a fun slice!