OK, first pic is Miles, our dog we've had for a couple of years now. We love Miles, he's quite possibly the sweetest thing on the planet. AND he's a total nanny dog. If they kids are wrestling/fighting or even just doing something they shouldn't be, he starts barking at them, runs to me, barks his "the kids are in trouble" bark (much like Lassie's Timmy's-in-the-well bark) and they're totally busted. I love that. A tattletale-nanny dog. who cuddles. And doesn't eat trash, dig, get out of the yard, run away, chew anything he's not supposed to, smell or other doggy things.
2nd pic is Millie. Meet Millie. It's a good damn thing that Millie is cute and has a gentle soul. Otherwise my foot would be deep into that dog's backside. No, I don't actually kick dogs. Really I don't. I do have a seriously scary "NO, DOWN GIRL" voice that makes children and animals cringe in fear. It's a gift.
Millie came home with Jeff from the farm. I about put my foot up Jeff's back end as well as he thought this was a great surprise for me and the kids. Millie came to us thanks to some dumbass that had abused her (she just cringes down whenever a harsh word is spoken or anyone moves too quickly, poor thing) and then dumped her out by Jeff's friend's land. Another farmer drove her out and tried to dump her again, but she came back. She rode home with Jeff, bringing 38 ticks (that we've found so far), ear mites, worms in her poo, yes, I actually saw them wiggling there, a BIG ASS hunger, big paws and loose skin that looks like she'll get even bigger, no ability to go OUTSIDE and likes pooing and peeing INSIDE on the few minutes she's in the damn house, going under and over fences, chewing lots of things she shouldn't and being sweet as heck. Damn she's sweet. And cute. Seriously, a good thing or she'd be finding another home.
I tried to take her for a walk and she went trotting right along until the end of the driveway where she sat down. Wasn't.going.to.move.one.damn.inch.further. I'm sure she thought I was going to take her out and dump her too. Took Miles instead, showed her that we both came back home so we'll see how the next time goes. Since she came home over the weekend, we didn't have her to a vet yet (she goes this afternoon) or any tags. We got a collar, sharpie wrote on some duct tape our phone # and her new name. We went to Easter Sunday at Jeff's aunt's house and got a call that she was in someone else's back yard. Went to pick her up, Jeff's chatting with the lady about how sweet she is, yes, yes, and how she's in her back yard, when here trots Millie down the street towards us, apparently not wanting to hang out in her back yard either.
I hope she stays with us, I'm just not sure how well a dog that's used to roaming outdoors over acres will handle a little back yard. We'll see,
No pretty pics of the ty-dy matching chickami tops to post yet. Not that I didn't work on them, oh, no. First attempt I got about 5 inches into the damn thing, thinking, huh. This sure does seem bigger than the last one. yes, I'm using more of a worsted weight cotton yarn instead of my sport-weight cotton/silk blend, but I've got gauge. OH dumbass moment. I realized I actually had decided on A SMALLER GAUGE for the last one I knit. crap. frogged it. Wasn't smart enough to stop frogging after the sz 3 ribbing since that would have used the same damn needles. frogged the whole thing. Start #2 got going fine, I set it down a few times in the middle of the first row, picked it up off the floor where a dog must have knocked it down, it seemed twisted, so I untwisted it and kept right along. Anyone got this one? Yup, I'd twisted it my own damn self on the join and proceeded to do 1x1 ribbing for 7 rows before realizing, hey dumbass, you TWISTED THE JOIN. damn damn damn. Start #3 cast on, made sure to join properly, 4 rows into it, went to do something, came back and it was GONE. It's a good damn thing that dog is cute and sweet, because she HAD MY KNITTING IN HER DAMN MOUTH, CHEWING ON IT! OHhhhhhhhhhhhhh it's also a good thing it was cotton. NO damn dog chews on my wool, baby. I had a chat with Millie about how she will NOT TOUCH MOMMA'S KNITTING. Miles is looking at her like "are you CRAZY dog?" By now the frogged yarn was so kinked and curly it was pathetic. I can't cut it off because I think I'll need every damn bit of yarn to get both sweaters made, so I decided that ball was "the cursed one" (said curse-ED one with dark horror music playing in the background) and put it away into the drawer after gently rinsing the dog spittle out of it and letting it air dry. NOW start #4 on the new ball is proceeding well and I think I've finally learned NOT to leave the knitting on the couch or anywhere in dog reach. Wish me luck.
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