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Archive for March 16th, 2015

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It’s been awhile since Yarn Rascal has earned the Golden Paw Award for Best Deviant Behavior with Yarn or Other Knitting Tools, but he racked up a humdinger this weekend. I foolishly led myself into believing such conduct had fallen by the wayside. Not so. The Bluefaced Leicester yarn, the completed front of the new baby sweater, and the locking stitch marker attached to the knitting were casualties.

In hindsight, I see that Yarn Rascal was winding himself up for this big moment. I was quite sick the last two weeks due to an awful reaction to medication. Two late night trips to the emergency room for rehydration while we waited for the medication to clear my system upset everyone. Yarn Rascal has never seen me sick and I could tell by his behavior that he was scared. He clung to me like a spandex outfit. Sick and rather scared myself any comfort I tried to give him fell hort of what he needed; which was for me to be up and about.

Finally, this weekend I returned to normal. Our household routines went back to being the same old same old. I picked up my knitting again, Yarn Rascal rejoiced. He got to slap the buttons on the calculator providing wrong answers for my computations. He got to sit on my lap, thereby sitting on my knitting too. He got to steal my pen. He was in his glory.

About the time we went to bed a wind storm came up. Strong winds buffeting the house make Yarn Rascal crazy. He gets very hyperactive. Combine his normal nocturnal tendencies with a keyed-up state and we have the makings of a disaster.

I, on the other hand, was tired and fell asleep. Yes, I heard the thump, thump, thump of his tail in the hallway just outside the bedroom door; a sound that can only mean trouble. I called his name and fell back to sleep. The rhythm of little feet running up and down the stairs bodes nothing good. Crying and tail wagging in the bedroom doorway is akin to disaster. These were some of the ways Yarn Rascal used to try to tell me that he’d gone over the edge and could no longer help himself. He was asking for help. I knew this and yet I just couldn’t break through to full conscientiousness. Then he came up on the bed and jumped up and down on me like a chimpanzee on cocaine. That got me awake.

I was too late. He destroyed and ingested part of the plastic locking stitch marker. I was horrified, sure this meant a trip to the emergency vet. The last thing I wanted was another late night trip to a hospital.

Needless to say we both survived. The Bluefaced Leicester yarn held up surprisingly well under assault. Only a small portion of the finished front needs to be repaired. Since Yarn Rascal ate the last locking stitch marker I had, I ordered more.

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