Cats always know whether people like or dislike them. They do not always care enough to do anything about it.
Winifred Carriere

I was honestly glad today that I could say that Charlie was not my dog (hey, I wanted the German Shepherd at Greenhill, but Emm and Dad were set on Charlie). Because I am entirely too soft on a dog spoiled rotten (I admit I feed him “people food”, alright?), I thought it’d be a worthy idea to take him on a walk to TKS. They allow well-behaved dogs in (and have a tin of doggy cookies), it’s a 3 mi round-trip, and I wanted to get my hands on a copy of Folk Socks (I lovelovelove this book, y’all – 6 different heel patterns and 6 different toes!!).

Let’s see, complaints to list:

  1. Charlie literally yanked the leash from my hand twice on the walk over.
  2. He tried to attack a cat (who was minding it’s own business and entirely freaked out)
  3. We got to TKS and he was okay for a while (he weired some people out by wandering around constantly), until he snarled and barked at a woman who tried to pet him (he even jumped at her, too). This was made even more mortifying by the fact that she apologized for upsetting him. He knows better. I quickly grabbed my stuff, put on his leash, apologized to everyone I could and dragged him from the store. All the while wondering if I could ship off to Africa immediately.
  4. On the way home he made the mistake of jumping at a runner (at this point I had lost all patience with him and tightened the leash so he couldn’t jump on anyone again)

Of course, when we arrived home, the parents had arrived. They were surprised by Charlie’s behavior and Dad immediately started making excuses for him (this is the man who doesn’t believe in obedience training). Until they finally admitted that he had acted inappropriately.

Now, I’m not saying that Charlie’s a bad dog. But, he’s half Border Collie (and thus, extremely neurotic) and has the attention span of a 2-year-old toddler. He’s never bit anyone or acted like he did today (at least in my presence), but it’s still unacceptable.

The other problem is the fact that Charlie was a rescue dog from the local animal shelter. He’s still terrified of newspapers (3 years later), won’t eat near anyone, and freaks out when we scold him. Makes you feel like the biggest bully on the face of the planet, too. So… finding a way to train him is problematic.

Blech. Still, I never ever want to go back to TKS again. That was just mortifying.

Anyway. Here’s a picture of the undyed, undyed and carded, and dyed banana silk (we used a crockpot and some Rit dye) next to Annabelle’s fleece (scoured thoroughly):

I couldn’t get a picture that fully expressed the vibrancy of the dyed banana silk (or the pure whiteness of the roots of Annabelle’s fleece), but this’ll have to do. I can’t wait to card and spin this all up! I think I might just take the banana silk to Guild with me on Sunday and work on it…

I also started in on the oh-so-sumptuous hand-dyed superwash/ tussah sock roving I bought from Carolina Homespun at OFF (using the loverly spindle I bought from them two years ago… seeing a trend, are we?). It’s soooooo yummy to spin. OMG. Just… wow.

Hand-dyed and machine washable socks, is there anything better?

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