Yep. Still working on those mittens with Dave's
yarn. Tonight I finished the shaping of the thumb gusset of the second mitten, so they are coming along.
I shared with Ann
today that Lizzie, my little girl, was a surprise gift from my students about 4 years ago. They seemed to feel that I needed responsibility, so for a long time they teased me that they were going to get me a dog. I relentlessly reminded them that I couldn't have a pet where I lived, so it was not even a consideration. But, the jokes and teasing continued, and in playing along, I decided that they needed some guidelines if, indeed, they were to get me a dog:
1. I wanted a female.
2. She must be either a Jack Russell Terrier or a retired racing Greyhound.
3. She must come from a shelter, or the SPCA, not a breeder.
4. She needed to be an adult, not a puppy.
I thought these were simple enough requests, but also specific enough that they wouldn't be able to do it, so I'd be safe, and they'd give up the search for a dog. There was no more discussion after I gave them my requests. For many weeks.
One night after a long theatre rehearsal, all of the seniors in the play were standing on stage in a huddle. I again reminded them that rehearsal was over, and we all needed to go home. They just stood there and looked at me and made no effort to leave. They finally said, "We have something for you." They handed me a dog collar. I said, "What's this about? You know I don't have a dog". Then they handed me a leash, and pictures. They had gone to the local SPCA, looking specifically for a Jack Russel Terrier or a Greyhound. They had neither, but told the kids they were welcomed to look at the dogs. So, they walk into the kennels, and all the dogs were barking, except this one. She just sat in her kennel and looked at them. Of course, they wanted to see her, and they spent about an hour and a half with her. They did all the paperwork, took pictures, and brought them to me.
I was literally speechless (which NEVER happens). And how could I just say no? They went to all this trouble, so I felt I at least needed to see this dog they picked out. The next day, we all went to the SPCA to see her. So, they bring out this dog. Emaciated. Furr falling out. She had had puppies recently, because her nipples were still exposed from nursing. She was found by the local dog enforcement - she had a collar, but no tags. And no puppies in tow, so God only knows what happened to them. She looked more like a fox than a dog. She was not a pretty sight. In fact, she was a mess. Literally. And she was all over me. Instantly. And I had to have her. So.... We re-did the paperwork and put her in my name. We named her Lizzie because that was the name of the main character in the play we were doing - 110 in the Shade - and I took her home. My landlords met her, and they changed my lease so I wouldn't have to move. And she has changed my life...
And if in the middle of the night, on the rare occasion, she happens to be curled up on the sofa (which is the only "naughty" thing she's ever done), I can live with that. She's wonderful with kids, other dogs and cats, and she only barks when the door bell rings. So what's a little dog hair on the sofa every now and then? That's why God invented lint rollers....