She's just gotta be free!

Cast off the shackles of domestic bondage!
Join in the feline nudist revolution!

In preparing our cats, Xena and Junebug, for the cross-country flight, we outfitted them with collars. Yes, we're bad CatParents, we let our kids grow up as nudists. They're indoor only cats, so we just kept their vaccination tags on file. There was a brief period of time in which collars were used, but they quickly trained us against them.

So, I think it probably took a little wrangling around an empty house to get 1)the collars on and 2)cats into their carriers (I can't recall completely as my mind has blissfully blacked out the gorier details, though there are scars... ) but they were collared and carriered, and made it after 20 hours (!) of travelling to Portland.

Almost immediately after being set free in our new apartment, Xena shed herself of her annoying collar. For whatever reason Junebug didn't seem to mind too terribly much. So she's kept it on for the last two months or so.

Until this morning.

Her collar is in such a state of disrepair (though in a certain light, and a certain angle, it does look a little Fun Furish) we were concerned she'd start getting snagged on things. So I freed her. No more warning jingle before being attacked in the middle of the night by Kneady McBladderstomper. No more aural clues that she Might Be Up to Something. We'll just have to rough it.

And I'm following suit. My Kepler is turning out... not quite right. The cable bands have a thicker "bead" of slipped stitches on one side than the other. While Logic would dictate that the thicker band be used at the terminal end of the sleeves and body, my backwards wired brain thought "You know, this yarn is a wee bit too thin for the pattern, maybe I should pick up stitches from the thicker side to hide the weird little gaps in the first few rows of stockinette" because I'M STUPID. So. Two sleeves and half of the front later, I'm frogging back to the cable bands.

Because it ain't a SnarkySweater unless I've knit it at least three times.

Gah!

Until I can muster up enough courage (and vino) to do the ripping, I remain nude and free. It's only natural, baby.