So I walk into the living room and notice my lace shawl on the floor. I think, "That's odd." Then I note the giant hole in the lace I spent hours knitting.
A hole that appeared to be edged in dry dog drool.
Elias appears somewhat chagrined.
Though I now have to knit a new shawl.
I think I'll be taping a ball of yarn to Eli's head in an attempt at aversion therapy.
It worked for books; he hasn't touched one since.