Well, I'm gonna let you all in on something ...
I've switched sites again. I know. "Again!" you may be saying.
"What about ScrapArtist?" Well, I'm going to keep trying at ScrapArtist.
Don't worry about that. I won't make it past this next round anyway.
Anyway, my new site, without further ado, let me doing the unveiling (removes cover from hidden object)
Yes, it's a sweet little angel, and the site is Divine Digital.
Are you shocked?
I am! I'm always shocked when people like my work! So I'm ready to dive in and start designing. You may have noticed that I'm not offering samples everyday.
Sorry about that. I love giving you guys gifts, but right now I'm so over-worked that I may have a nervous breakdown.
But I intend to keep giving gifts every so often, so be on the lookout!
I might even give away a sample from my newest kit.
Anyway, enough of that.
Wish me luck. Again.
I gave my animals a bath tonight and let me tell you, I may never be the same.
Have you ever washed three hyper animals in one sitting?
Don't do it! It's scary. It's horrific.
And it's wet. Very wet. I was drenched by the time I was done, and my husband and I had more than a few battle scars.
First we started with Sam, the dummy, the part Lab, part Collie wonder dog.
He was filthy.
And he knew something was up because he ran for his hideaway under the table. My husband picked him up and carried him into the bathroom.
"He's like dead weight!" he said.
He put Samo in the tub and the dog fought to get out. But he did not prevail, and soon he calmed down and enjoyed the soft spray of water down his back.
I had put several towels on the floor for the moment of truth. When we would get him out and he would do the dog shake thing.
Which he did about eight times.
After I wiped wiped down the bathroom, I went to find Kitty Bobo. She knew something was going on, too.
She thought she could find shelter behind the chair, but of course my husband was too quick for her. He took her to the tub and she began to squirm, after we soaked her, she resembled a rat. A rat with huge feet.
I wrapped her in a towel, she was shaking.
I started to dry her off with the hair dryer and she squirmed some more and finally broke free.
She proceeded to start licking her while giving my husband and I the dirtiest looks a cat can give. "Don't let her out, she'll warn the other one!" my husband said.
She is very nimble and kept us on our toes trying to catch her as she darted from chair to chair and under tables. (see photo)
We surrounded her finally under the kitchen table, she growled and spit. She knew.
From the moment my husband grabbed her, she was trying to get away. He put her in the tub. The cat fought more fiercely than a prizefighter. She jumped up high to get away from the water. She howled in a low, guttural tone, it sounded otherworldly.
Her eyes shone bright and glassy.
Of course she was behind the shower door so she could not escape.
Does that sound mean? Well no not really. My husband said she should have a minute to calm down and get used to the water.
Which she finally did, but now without howling and giving my husband one fierce bite on the arm. She drew blood.
Well, she did finally get clean, she calmed down just enough and afterward, I dried her with the blow dryer. She seemed to like that a lot. After all she's my "cold" cat, the one who likes to sleep huddled up in the laundry or right over the heat vent.
My husband thought the bathing fiasco would ruin our relationship with Py. But right now she is enjoying some faucet water.
She's just a drama queen.