Hestia and NaKniSweMo...Day 12

So, it's taken me...what? 12 days to knit this - a sort of square rectangle - for a snood for Nero.

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'

Except.

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 bedroom office carpet together in a patch of sunlight. He slept and I literally went through his coat with a fine toothed comb.  And I found one.  And I caught it.  And I took it to my desk and mercilessly crushed it beneath my trusty pencil.

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.