The Only Job

I was driving the other day from one job site to another, up Broadway, and driving along side of me was a woman on one of those electric mobility devices. There was a basket on the foot platform, and I could see something moving inside the open basket. It was a little Yorkie. I was struck by what a dangerous job this little one had. Being a companion, the only job. I'm sure that she is happy to be riding along with her person, risking getting toppled out of the basket and into the street. Because that's where she wants to be. It's why I knit for dogs. Who is more deserving of some hand made love to wrap their little bodies? At the Renegade, a woman stopped into my tent. She didn't take a card, so I know she's not reading this. She looked at the prices of the sweaters, and said, "well, I love my dog, but not XX dollars worth!." I don't exactly remember my response. I may have said, "I feel sorry for your dog!," but I think I said "then I have nothing to say to you!" I myself can't put a dollar amount on the depth of love I have for my companion.
My other companion animal spent the night at his mother's. He's taking turns with his other siblings, as she has not been well. He called me to complain that she wouldn't let him eat the whole cake out of a box with a fork (instead of slicing it and putting it on a plate), or let him jump rope in the house. I guess the Man thinks that a jump rope is an essential piece for an overnight trip. This morning, when he wanted to wash his hair in her kitchen sink, she said, "are you nuts?." At home, he goes beyond the hair washing in the kitchen, and does a full on "farmer bath." He's a wild, unrefined, untamed beast.
I'm adding more to the Lucky Penny inventory for my upcoming event. The last one I did, picture to follow, pushes the color envelope even for me. Bright Noro stripes with an even brighter hand paint for bands. I was going for retina damage. Wouldn't it be funny if it sold first?