When I was in school I never used the “dog ate my homework” excuse. We had outdoor dogs on the farm – they didn’t even know about homework. I don’t think my kids used that excuse either, although they could have because we once had a beagle, Sydney, who ate anything left unsupervised to include a pair of my son’s pajamas and my daughter’s jeans. And one time, another dog, Millie, a cute mixed-breed golden something or other, saw my bowling alley punch card sticking out of my wallet and pulled it out and ate it. It was brand new with only two punches on a $40 card. Grrr. But homework, no, not really. Unless you count making a star a day as homework.
I was busy on my guild challenge quilt and fell behind 4 stars but my goal is 7 per week and I thought I could still meet it last week, if I made four stars on Sat night while watching a movie with my husband. Great plan. Dale got the movie while I traced star parts.
By the time I went downstairs I had a neat pile of all four stars traced, ready for cutting out and stitching. Surely I would be caught up by the end of the movie.
But my dog, Holly, wouldn’t leave me alone. She has needed more affection than usual after 12 days at dog camp while we were in Florida. So I set my sewing aside and gave her a bit of attention. Satisfied, she went off to find dog friend, Tommy.
Finally settled in my chair I reached to the end table where I had set my basket of work. My sewing kit was there, the scissors were there, and my glasses were there. But where were those fabric pieces with the traced shapes? Did I drop them? I retraced my steps to the sewing room. Nope. They were in the basket when I brought it downstairs. Right on top. I looked at Holly with suspicion. She’s always trying to steal my sewing. I think she likes it because it smells like me. It’s one thing if she just wants to smell it but oh no, not this dog. With her mighty, ant eater like tongue she can sweep up a whole pile of cut out pieces and swallow them whole. Did she eat my homework? Or did Tommy steal them? I didn’t see either dog at the sewing basket. I must have misplaced them.
I looked around but couldn’t find a sign of those fabric bits. Four little stars worth. Traced and ready for cutting. Twelve different pieces of fabric. Where did they go? I looked at the dogs once more before giving up and going back to the sewing room to start over. The week ended and the delay set me behind by two stars.
The next day Dale found some of my fabric pieces in the yard. He offered them back but I politely declined.