Need I even explain? Once the Golden Paw Award shows up at the top of the blog, can it mean anything other than Yarn Rascal has once again out done himself?
Let me start by saying the dog never sleeps. He will close his eyes for 5 minutes then spend the next 24 hours in full gear without another wink of sleep. He is nocturnal. All the while we’re sleeping he is up and roaming the house. Left to his own devices he finds all kinds of trouble.
Monday morning Yarn Rascal was not a happy camper. He was clearly feeling sick. He refused his breakfast and remained on the couch listless and lethargic. I was very worried. I knew it wasn’t yarn making him sick, because the yarn is now in jars. But I didn’t know what else he might have gotten into during the night.
Monday was a holiday, so his regular vet wasn’t around. It would mean a trip to the emergency animal hospital. I had an appointment with my graphic designer–yes some changes in look will be coming, and decided that I would see how The Rascal was when I got home.
Yarn Rascal was better when I returned. Not 100 percent but better. He was at least drinking water. I spent the rest of Monday comforting him, loving him, catering to his every whim. At 10 pm he finally ate his dinner and I was feeling sure he had turned a corner for the better. I carried Yarn Rascal to bed with me. I completely believed, in my delusional way, that he would spend the night sleeping since he had such a rough day.
I don’t know what time it was when I felt Yarn Rascal walk across my head holding something that felt “furry” when it brushed the skin of my face, with a “tail” that trailed behind it. But I do know my blood immediately surged through my veins bringing much needed oxygen to my brain which was screaming something about a mouse and my heart nearly exploded out of my chest as it went from first gear into overdrive. In the meanwhile, Yarn Rascal was thrashing around the bottom of the bed with whatever it was he had.
I flung my arm out and around searching for the switch to turn on the bedside lamp. Everything stacked on the table crashed to the floor, and the lamp itself almost went over. But I grabbed it with both hands. To my surprise, I was standing on my pillows. With the lamp now clutched to my chest (the lamp shade didn’t make it through this ordeal) I fumbled the switch on and there was Yarn Rascal in all his glory at the bottom of the bed with something brown with an off-white tail that looked like ribbon. He thrashed it around again and then looked at me. His tail went thump-thump-thump in that way it does when he is delighted with himself.
I tried to get my eyes to focus on what the little rascal really had. He thrashed it again, his tail went thump-thump-thump and it slowly washed over me that he had the little knitted baby hat that went with the sweater.
Charleston Baby Sweater and Hat Set
In all the doggie obedience books it says to use the same command words every time so the dog doesn’t get confused with what you want him to do. The command words I use most commonly with Yarn Rascal are “stop it” and “drop it.” The books never says, however, what to do next when the dog doesn’t ever respond to the command.
Upon fully realizing it was the knitted hat and not some decapitated mouse, I
screamed said “drop it” in the best authoritative command voice I could muster in the dead of the night, while standing on my pillows clutching the bedside lamp with the crushed shade.
As usual, Yarn Rascal took the command to mean “let’s play” and off he scampered hat in mouth, ribbon flying out behind him and headed downstairs. Yes, at 3:30 am Yarn Rascal had fully recovered and wanted to play.
As I took off after him I tried to think of how he got the hat. I keep the set stored away awaiting its release date. Then I knew. I had taken it to the meeting with the graphic designer and when I came home, I was so concerned over Yarn Rascal not feeling well that I apparently didn’t properly store it away again.
We “played” for about 15 minutes. The ribbon is torn to shreds, but I have enough extra ribbon (I hope) to replace it. The hat has a few misshapen stitches but nothing was really eaten through. A soak and a patting into place should revive the hat.
Thus, Yarn Rascal has racked up yet another Golden Paw. And I have somehow miraculously avoided heart attack and stroke. Though I still say, this dog is going to be the death of me.
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