The observant amongst you will notice something quite significant about this bit of knitting what I have knat. It's pink.
I started knitting a BLACK snood.
That one still looks like this:
And here it is, as modelled by its new owner.
No pissing yourself laughing at the back, please.
|I call this 'resigned humiliation'|
|That head is crying out for a Snood|
And Flea powder.
Houston...we have a problem.....
I was grooming him the other day and spotted a tiny reddish-brown speck in his fur. Which I promptly lost sight of. This can mean only one thing: MY DOG HAS FLEAS!!!!!
THE SHAME is beyond even admitting to owning a Cliff Richard CD. I don't, by the way. But, it's a way to demonstrate the SHAME, the S H A M E of having a flea-ridden mutt.
I've had two Yorkshire Terriers, a Lhasa Apso and a permanently worried Alsatian and NONE of them EVER caught fleas.
There's NO WAY I'm putting my hard-won knitting onto a lousy wee head, cute thought it may be.
Tartarus is secretly quite delighted. Fleas in the carpet is not something that I want and I've been hoovering like a woman with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder since I spotted the little bastard in his fur.
This afternoon we spent a happy hour lying on the
And I cast a glance towards the tiny squished corpse as I type this.
And it's not fucking there.........
Today I also had to hoover custard powder out of my fanny. But that's a story for another day.