It was 6:30 Saturday morning. I quietly extricated myself from the bed so as not to wake Gregg, tip-toed past Ray snoozing on the futon, and then crept down the stairs. Hugo followed.
I wanted to finish knitting a pair of mittens that I'd been working on and I wanted to cast on the thumb, a tricky bit for me. I needed solitude.
I got the coffee brewing, put a little half-and-half in a Wedgewood creamer so that it could come to room temperature on the counter, and sat down with my project. I spread my knitting paraphernalia out on the couch next to me; Hugo jumped up to perch on the end table. As soon as my butt hit the couch, I heard the jingle of dog tags. Hugo nervously watched the doorway for the dog, then jumped down, slunk behind the couch, and back up the stairs. I sighed.
Ray ambled over and indicated his desire to go out. I got up, put on some shoes, put Ray on his leash and took him outside for a quick pee, then returned to my couch and the knitting. Ray followed me over and jumped his legs up on the couch next to me.
"No, Ray," I said, "Go sit on dad's chair."
Ray was persistent. I pushed his legs down. "Go on. Go sit somewhere else," I said.
Ray jumped his legs back up and loomed.
I picked up my knitting and moved to Gregg's chair. Ray followed. I sighed. I gave him a rubdown. He tried to crawl up on the chair with me. I took my knitting and moved to the family room, Ray jumped up onto the newly-warmed chair and curled himself into a ball. I sat down in the recliner in the other room, picked up the thumb stitches I needed, and started to knit. I was three stitches into the first row when Ray, realizing that he'd been had, got down out of his chair and followed me into the family room. I briefly rubbed his ears while he thought about trying to get up in the chair with me, then decided the couch would be more comfortable and curled up there. I picked up my knitting and knit a quick two rows before I realized I was doing it the wrong way round (sigh) and unpicked what I had just done.
I decided maybe it was a good time for breakfast so I left the knitting and went to make some bacon and eggs. Just as I finished making them, Gregg appeared in the kitchen, then Hugo, and then as if by magic, Ray. Hugo darted back up the stairs. Ray knowing that he'd missed his friend once again, trotted to the foot of the stairs and 'looked' interestedly up. Hugo was sitting on the landing watching the oblivious dog.
I took my plate and headed for the living room to eat. Ray followed with a rawhide in his mouth, tail wagging. He stationed himself in front of me with the 'come chase me' look on his face. I picked up my plate and followed him around the coffee table taking a bite of breakfast here and there, before sitting down to eat the rest of my egg sandwich. I puttered around the kitchen cleaning up my mess while Gregg ate his breakfast. He took off for the grocery store. Just as I sat down to try and get my knitting squared away, Ray appeared once again with his rawhide to re-start the game of keepaway. Hugo was watching from the landing so every time we did a loop around the coffee table, I would make a detour to the foot of the stairs to toss a fabric tape measure up the stairs for Hugo to chase. Around the table, to the stairs. Around the table, to the stairs.
Finally, Ray headed outside with his rawhide. I knew he would be busy burying it for a while so I immediately headed back to my knitting to see what I could accomplish. I got a quick few rows done before Ray was back with muddy feet. I got up to wipe away the mud then sat back down with my knitting. Ray started to whine. I got back up to feed him, then sat back down with my knitting. Ray finished eating but didn't leave the kitchen. I heard an odd noise and got up to investigate. Ray's front feet were on the kitchen counter. He was delicately lapping the half-and-half from the Wedgewood creamer. I gave a howl of outrage, dumped the remainder, and removed the creamer to the sink. I sat back down with my knitting. Ray went to the front door and started to scratch; he wanted a walk. I called the dog over and pulled him up on the couch next to me, Moonie arrived and jumped up on the other side. I sat, petting both my animals, reveling in having both of them together for a change. The knitting lay on the table next to me, forgotten for the moment.
Gregg returned from the grocery; Moonie left. I picked up the knitting, finished the last stitch, looked at the finished mitten with pride and realized that I had knit the entire thumb with the wrong size needles (sigh). I went and got dressed and grabbed the dog leash.