Cat vs. Goat

One of the things I do like about the new house is its size. For all the charm of the old farmhouse, it was tiny. The new house is much bigger. It has less character, but there are a couple of badly needed extra rooms for keeping things out of the reach of critters and children.

For instance, Charlie.

Charlie is one of our California cats. Born on the streets of San Francisco, he lives indoors now and spends his days harassing his sister and sleeping in the sun. He's never met a goat, but boy would he like too. I left a baggie of Riversong's fleece on the kitchen counter the other day after her spinal tap and he went nuts. It was better than catnip.

So I keep the fleeces and the fiber stuff locked up in their own room, unless I'm actively working on something and carrying it around with me -- like the yarn I spun up from Donnanoble's first fleece this week. I haven't gotten very far with it, but I'm pretty impatient, so I decided to knit up the tiny bit I'd done, just to see, you know?

I put it down on the kitchen counter next to me this morning while I had my coffee. Just for a second.

Charlie's pretty fast for a couch potato. I really should know better.