The two white balls of fluff that are my grandparents’ Pomeranians were quite interested in my crocheting as I started square #17, and they were distracting as I tried to think about what I wanted to pray for. BeBe gave a startled jump as a ball of yarn rolled off my lap, hit the floor, and bounced towards her. Lily, however, wasted no time in making off with the ball in her mouth – a drive-by kidnapping. When I set my crocheting down to jump up and get my camera, she trotted around the room, my hook clinking on the hardwood floor behind her.
These playful antics are similar to those of my cats at home. Tiki tangles with the ball of yarn on the living room floor while Samantha looks on from my lap, serving as a soft work table. Both contribute to my work by shedding their white and black hair into the weaving process. Samantha frequently enjoys the comforts of my last afghan, which adorns my bed and serves as a “time-to-cut-the-claws” indicator.
Once my yarn had been safely retrieved from the white jaws of death, I sat down with a smile to finish my square. Thank you, Lord, for the little joys and pleasures of pets.
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