" I may be a liar, but at least I wasn't the only bitch in the room."

My guy Smitty, too damn cool to be a show dog.

Alright, so it's a day after my baby blanket pics were supposed to go up, and there is still no completed baby blanket up in this blog. Pour quoi? Because it's still an embarrassing mess of ends and slightly wonky borders, one I'm too ashamed to photograph and put up. I did finish the knitting, but I was convinced it was too small. I'm not very experienced in the ways of the baby, so I really had no idea what size a completed baby blanket should be. I felt it was a little small, and I would have added at least another round of log cabin blocks, but I was out of yarn. And one of the colours is discontinued. And frankly, sometimes trying to find another ball of a particular ball of current Koigu is such a pain in the ass that trying to find a discontinued skein would probably lead to a trip to the loony bin or maybe a trip to Michael's for some Red Heart and a stop at the bar. But after consulting the dimensions of the Big Bad Baby Blanket in Stitch 'n Bitch and the ever-helpful Frankie at the Stitch and Niche, I decided it would just be large enough, with some aggressive blocking. So, pictures tomorrow after all the fiddly ends are taken care of (note to self: Russian Join from here on in) and the whole thing is dunked in a bath.

And time for another confession: I went to a dog show today. No, I don't have any photographic evidence of this event, nor documentation of the elusive species known as the "Crazy Dog Show Fanatic", because I didn't bring my camera. For two reasons: my family came to help Smitty's breeder and lend moral support, which would have been difficult with a camera banging around, and secondly because dog show people are positively bonkers. Taking an unauthorized picture would have probably led to some snappish lady with an "I Love My Pembroke Welsh Corgi" t-shirt stabbing me in the neck with grooming shears. I did regret not taking my camera when I spotted an old man sleeping with his feet up next to a grooming table, where his Chow Chow was sleeping with one fuzzy paw stuck out. People who show dogs are usually seen as one rank below child pageant mothers on the weirdo scale, which isn't necessarily fair. Some, like Smitty's breeder, are nice and refreshingly sane. And then others, like some lady whose dog only won fourth, sit ringside telling their dog how they're "always the ugliest dog in the ring" and "so ugly". Which, two things, crazy lady: your dog can't understand English, and your dog is much better than that. Some one's the bitch in this scenario, and this time it's not the dog. Honestly, anyone want to try a canine rescue with me?