I read with interest mums blog on rugmaking.  She may call it a rug, I’d call it a tummy warmer, although I’ll get Harrier to lie on it first and if he doesn’t get told off I’ll evict him.  If he does get told off, I’ll just look smug and angelic. 

What she may not know until she nearly finishes the rug is that of the 5000 individual bits of yarn required she will only have 49996 strands.  Three got attached to Harriers tail when he wagged it over a pile of trimmed lengths.  These are now scattered across the lawn, naturally they are green.

Another one ended up attached to my back paw as I leapt into action to protect the bird table from a rampaging pigeon  unfortunately the lounge window was in the way so it escaped.   I’ve read up on pigeons in Dr Mutts Guide to tasty tweeters and apparently you can make them into pies.  Sounds delicious!

Mum did however find and replace a few other strands.  One had made it halfway down the drive after aunty biscuit sat on it.  Somehow, and nobody knows how or rather nobody is admitting to being the perpetrator, another one was found in our water bowl.  I’m not casting aspersions but there are only three of us who use it and it certainly wasn’t me.