Sunday I made Salt Dough.
I used the stuff to make pawprints of my dog Lettie. She's not doing well, and I wanted to have this to remember her by.
Walking into the kitchen means that eventually I will hear the tick-tick of little paws coming into see what was going on and this was to be no exception.
I had just measured out the salt and flour to make this weird white play-doh stuff when I saw her nose peek around the corner into the kitchen.
She must be hungry.
No matter what, salt is off the menu for you you strange little dog. Salt does not go well with kidney problems, so she didn't get to sample what she THOUGHT she wanted.
Kneading three little pancakes, two were lined into small pie tins, the third was just plopped unceremoniously onto a corelle plate.
Then I filled a bowl part-way with water to wash her feet because Mrs Dog was going to be the guest of honor on this little party.
We got her in her harness, and immediately the fear factor came to the surface.
Turning on the light, I sat down on the dining room floor. Kevin walked Mrs Dog into the dining room and she immediately showed teeth. Scaredy Cat? No, this is normal for a dog.
I did it quickly as I could!
Grabbed a paw, placed it into the slowly warming white putty, and one was done.
She didn't like that.
Paws 2 and 3 went fairly well, although she didn't like that either.
Grumpy and Irascible Dog aside, I did manage to get three good paw-prints out of the exercise.
Good luck arguing with a dog in a bad mood to start. By the time we were done, she wanted nothing to do with me, salt, flour, or her feet which were now turning the water in my 2 quart mixing bowl an interesting shade of grey-brown.
I had my prize, and she had a need for the front lawn. Another well watered spot. At least on the way out, the rest of the salt got washed off the feet in the wet grass.
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