Hello, my name is Kitty

My dog's name is Katharine Murray Mason, but we call her Kitty. Lots of Katharines are called Kitty. My Mother's second-hand cat came with the name Cinnamon, but it did not suit her or stick. By default, she was also named Kitty. Kitty and Kitty go to the same vet, who happens to be my husband's brother. They are on the same account. And they always go together, which makes for a little confusion, and lots of snickers and sheepish smiles.

After our appointment this week, we went to my brother-in-law's farm, Riverbank Farm, a stock dog training facility with "dog broke” livestock, including Cheviot sheep and llamas.

These are a few of the new lambs. MacAusland’s Woollen Mill of Prince Edward Island custom spins their hardy fleeces along with a touch of llama. The resulting yarn is not for the fussy or faint of heart - it is down home, sticky and practical. Nothing luxury about it, just like me. Perfect for the kind of sweater I reach for every day.

eesh.

Riverbank Farm also fosters rescue stock dogs that have not succeeded as pets. Many thrive when to able satisfy their instincts to herd. But they were all napping when we were there. And the Kittys waited patiently in the car.

For years the running family joke was a comparison of mouths to feed at the farm versus engines to keep running at our place.  Happy to say there are way more mouths than engines nowadays.