sometimes the decision to finish is made for you

As I have previously posted, the lovely horseshoe pattern scarf was taking nothing short of forever to finish. A finicky pattern, combined with slippery yarn and needles, tested my patience for almost a year and a half. But then, along came Lolly and the Project Spectrum Water element and I said to myself, "enough is enough, this is the inspiration you need to finish this personal knitting nemesis of yours."

And so, with renewed vigor and inspiration, I decided to switch the type of needles I was using (from Addi turbos to bamboo) and off I rode towards the finish line. One Friday night, however, as I was nearing the end of the skein (I figured I had approximately 1-2 repeats of the pattern left before casting off), I decided to take a break from the knitting and my marathon viewing of the Season 2 DVD of Gilmore Girls, and went upstairs to check email.

Well, email turned into internet surfing, which turned into checking my blog roll, which turned into Ravelry surfing, which basically turned into me being completely absorbed by the computer. Now this, you may agree, is perfectly fine as long as you don't happen to own a miniature schnauzer puppy with a major yarn fetish. Which I do.

So, the realization that I had left my long laboured over Handmaiden Seacell/Silk blend horseshoe pattern scarf on the seat of the recliner in the living room WITHIN eating distance of the schnauzer with a yarn fetish was somewhat like the realization that Sephora cosmetics (oh, makeup how I love thee) was finally coming to Canada -- I think the earth moved. And, as a result, I developed a sudden likeness to a certain Usain Bolt and probably made it downstairs in less than a second to see how much damage had been incurred to my knitting (my time getting to Sephora was significantly slower and hampered by a 20 minutes drive downtown - for those who need to know).

Anyway, sure enough, no recliner seat is too high for the "Super Schnauze" when the end result is chomping down on some yarn, and when I landed in the living room, there sat Titus on the living room rug surrounded by Handmaiden yarn, calmly SWALLOWING and EATING the remainder of the skein. It was the most concentration and devotion you will ever see on a dog's face and his thought process was incredibly obvious: this (swallow) is (swallow) sooooooo (swallow) good(swallow).....yummmmmmmmmmmmy (swallow).

How maddening. Seriously.

Is it much of a surprise, then, that my only way to stop this madness was to pick up the yarn from the rug and start pulling on it? Pulling so that what had just gone in to the dog's mouth was now coming out? I tell you, I had no choice - that skein cost me 35 bucks and I would be damned if the dog was going to dictate when I was actually finished with this scarf.

So I pulled.

And pulled.

And pulled a little more.

After about a minute of solid pulling, I was left with about 5 feet of goopy, swallowed Seacell yarn and a dog with a huge yarn-eating grin on his face. My only choice? To cut the yarn off, cast off, and try to salvage the remaining pieces in case I wanted to add on a fringe. Which I haven't done yet because I think I'm still traumatized by pulling 5 feet of yarn out of my dog's mouth and stomach.

As I said at the beginning... sometimes the decision to finish is made for you.

And, sometimes, the dog knows better than you do because the scarf is just fine as it is.