The end of May 2015

Charlie is doing pretty well. We've had a few hiccups this past week. One, he had a nail to split vertically again, so we had to make a fast trip to the groomer. Apparently it hurt quite a bit, because he tried to nip Mr. Jon. He really does have the best groomer though - Mr. Jon turned off the nail trimmer and said calmly "Charlie, you do not nip. No bite. I love you. Give me your paw." and Charlie covered his face in kisses and obeyed. (I was still mortified!) Mr. Jon said it was really unlike him, and that he knew Charlie was hurting.

Friday we went to get my mom's car out of the shop, and another customer had their small dog in their lap. Charlie acted as if he had never seen another dog before, and like he hasn't spent the past two years on training his special skills. I backed out of the door with him as soon as we had walked in, and made him lay in down stay until he reset. I ended up dislocating my wrist really badly and that put me in a sour mood for the rest of the day. It's still pretty tender to the touch.

Yesterday Charlie and I had to get some groceries. He performed perfectly as if Friday had never happened. (I guess even service dogs have bad days.) One of our favorite cashiers at Publix insisted we come into his lane - the ten items or less lane - even though I had a regular cart. He swapped out his sign for a regular one and had a bag boy load up the stuff onto the belt for me. It was such a relief. I usually hate accepting help, but my wrist was still hurting and it was really nice to be able to actually see the stuff ring up on the screen. Usually I'm doing my best to put everything up on the belt fast enough for them to ring it up. We got help loading the car too - and I think the teenage girl that helped us was super professional and polite. I took Charlie off duty and had him in a down stay in the back seat. I asked her if she'd like to pet him, because he was off duty now and she gave him a kiss on his forehead! I love publix. Good people and plenty of support for me.

My unemployment has come to an end, and I'm still in the initial stages of trying to get disability. I'm really worried about it. I've been trying hard to fight for my best mental health in the meantime, but I'm really fighting with all I've got right now.

I've knit a few things this month, which for me is an accomplishment! My most recent finished project is a shawl. The pattern is the Stormcloud Shawlette by Hanna Breetz, available on ravelry.com for free.

"Flash your stash" 2015

So there's this thing on Ravelry where you take a picture of all your yarn collection and show it off. I figured I'd join in, as its a good excuse to empty the closet and reorganize.

That is a queen sized bed. The picture shows all my WIPs (works in progress). The only active ones are the very top right corner - I am piecing together my Beekeeper's Quilt, and the bottom left corner, I'm working on a black and purple hat. 

Same bed. Top left is my silk blends, top right is all my cotton yarn. Middle left is my "too special to know what to make it into", middle right is my handspun yarn I made on my drop spindle. Bottom left is acrylic, tiny pile on bottom/middle row is my bulky wool, and finally bottom right is my worsted wool.

Final photo is my fingering weight yarn and in the boxes you can see yarn set aside for projects I want to tackle with that specific yarn and pattern.

I didn't take a picture of my inherited SABLE (stash acquired beyond life expectancy) or my spinning fiber, as I haven't added to them or used out of them in more than one year's time.

A tuba and an issue of "Crochet Today!"...

Catching up on my "Supernatural", "Drop Dead Diva" and yarn craft today. (Yes, that's an actual line from an episode of SPN I watched today. Lol)

Charlie is doing okay. His paw is very tender. The neighbor kids were sad for him, which made me swell with community pride. These little ragamuffins didn't have the slightest empathy for animals last month, and now they are sad that the "cool, scary dog next door" (scary because he's so large) is injured. They want to pet him, but they're so small that he's on eye level with one of them, and I can see how that might be intimidating. Just last month these kids were trying to throw rocks at a cat outside my window, and I scooped it up, took it inside and out the back door to tell the parents. The kids got in trouble, and the neighbor and I are now talking a little bit. It's a weird way to build a relationship, but it works.

I've been thinking today, especially since watching an episode of SPN with "skin walkers" (human like beings that can turn into dogs). Would I treat an animal differently than I would a human? Do I treat humans like I treat animals?

In the episode, a homeless man is "turned" and becomes a skin walker. He looks like a German shepherd, and is adopted by a single mom and her son. In the end, the woman is so freaked out, that she calls him a freak, and threatens his life if he ever comes around again, even though he saved her life multiple times while her pet.

People think me odd, because I "spoil" my animals. They eat and drink from freshly washed dishes. When I buy them kibble, it's food grade, and made in the United States. I paint Charlie's nails, not just clear, which was recommended to me, but colors that match his collar. They get a new toy every month. They're up to date on vaccinations. When it's available, they drink filtered water. I don't see how that's "spoiling" them. Inside pets, outside vagrant cats, it's all the same to me. I believe God trusts me with their care.

In genesis, man's first task was to name and care for the animals.

Saint Francis called animals his "brothers and sisters", and even preached to the birds.

My cousins laughed at and with me, for me rescuing a frog from swimming in my aunt's pool. He swam quite well, and I'm sure he would have eventually found his way to the shallow end, but he seemed a bit lost, and was chasing my cousin. While I held him in one hand, I scooped water onto the sidewalk to cool it off, since the pool was much cooler than the sidewalk. My cousin joked something along the lines of "when you die, they're going to name you as a saint for unwanted animals!"

Theologies aside, if an animal is treated with respect and a general sense of love, how is that crazy? I even ask, do we treat the homeless with even a fraction of kindness we give our dear pets, who eat purina out of the same old dirty dish day after day?

I think I'm called to love and care for animals and humans equally, because God made them both. They have feelings, needs and desires. I won't go as far as St. Francis and preach to pigeons, but it seems like my life long affection with Hugh Lofting's "Doctor Doolittle" has good standing of reasoning behind it. My only difference in obligation to humanity is to care about their souls, in addition to caring about their feelings, wants and needs. I'm a human, and my first duty is to humanity...but it shouldn't be such a wonder for society to look at me and see my care for animals. I think others should care more, not me less.

/soapbox