Knit 1, slip 1, drop 99

Mum was out this afternoon and dad was in the garden so I thought that I would go and help him. He was pulling things up ( he called them ‘weeds’) so I thought that I would pull things up as well. My teeth couldn’t get hold of those ‘weed’ things so I decided to pull up the sticks that dad had ‘forgotten’ to take out. Then I noticed that he was diggering. Now, that is my speciality, so I started to help. I made sure that I was just where dad was working but my help wasn’t appreciated and I was taken into the house, something about bulbs not being good for me but I know that and I never try and eat them.

Later, mum arrived home and I was sitting mournfully by the back door. She stroked me and talked to me and I didn’t feel so unappreciated. It was good to have her home until I remembered…… I didn’t follow her upstairs as I usually do and then I heard ‘oh Jed!’

Whilst I was shut in the house I discovered that Dad hadn‘t shut the utility room door properly and I managed to get in there. With super canine energy I managed to reach up to the worktop and grabbed mum’s knitting bag. I took it half way upstairs so I could investigate in peace. What fun! I pulled loads of wool apart and the ball of wool rolled down a few stairs. I also managed to bite through the nylon strand of a circular needle, too, according to mum. I gather that this wasn’t a good thing to do. Something about ‘stitches being off the needle, or something. Dad felt a bit guilty and said that he would get mum another needle tomorrow. She said ‘not to bother’ in a strange voice. I think that perhaps dad and I will be looking for a new home. Any offers?

I’m keeping my head down for a while but I expect dad will put his foot in it!

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