Martha may have written the book on well, everything, but believe it or not, sometimes even the uncraftiest of us (namely: me) can bust out a dazzling show of domestication.
That’s right, folks: I actually made the dog bed this morning! Which is miraculous in itself, sure, but the best part?
These two guys are actually sleeping on it, right now.
I went out to the living room to grab my phone for a picture, and there they were! Of course, it’s more likely because Darrell is occupying the entire length of the new couch, but hey, I’ll take my victories where I can get them.
You see the one on the right? He’s the master of destruction. Wondering why I took the time to make a dog bed, rather than just going out to get one? Let me paint you a picture. I call it, “This is why we can’t have nice things.”
Lambeau, in his not yet three years of life, has demolished at least three dog beds, a couch, a chair, more blankets than I can count and several pairs of shoes. He’s even attempted to eat his way through a door. And somehow, I still love the little jerk. Which explains why, when I had scraps of foam core from the couch he destroyed, along with a shower curtain that Darrell managed to get deck stain on, I decided to spend a couple hours at the sewing machine to make a free bed.
Ahh, the life of a dog parent.
Regardless of why I made the dog bed though, I’m pretty proud I managed to sew an even remotely straight line. Crafting is not my forte, but I think even my friend Nicole would be proud.
Here’s hoping Lambeau doesn’t get hungry while I’m sleeping.