Apologies for the lack of updates since, erm well forever really. But life gets in the way sometimes, especially when "life" involves a rather crazy 11 month old staffordshire bull terrier puppy. She's the world's greatest dog and I adore her, even with her habit of grabbing my knitting from the sofa and racing off at full speed with it, or stretching herself out on my lap directly over my knitting and/or pattern (do you think she's trying to tell me something?).

Despite that I'm still managing to get a fair amount of knitting done, including this year's Debbie Abrahams mystery blanket club which I've somehow kept up to date with (photo to follow after I've knitted the final squares and sewn up) , and have already signed up for next year's blanket club.

In between finding time to knit, train Ebony (the aforementioned staffie pup) and getting lots of hugs and love from her I've also been in training for this Sunday's Waggy Walk in aid of Dogs Trust. The lovely Ebony is a former resident of their Leeds rehoming centre having been picked up as a stray when she was around 7 months old, if it wasn't for Dogs Trust taking her in from the local stray kennels this tiny puppy probably wouldn't be around today. Dogs Trust never put a healthy dog down, and for those dogs that aren't so cute or have behavioural issues that may make them less desirable to potential owners, they promise to look after them until the right owner comes along. They really are a great charity and do some wonderful work looking after around 16,000 dogs every year, so if you can I'd really appreciate you going to my just giving page to read Ebony's story and donating a pound or two if you can afford. And if you're considering getting a dog please consider a rescue dog, not just from the "big" organisations like Dogs Trust, RSPCA or Blue Cross. There are often many small local rescue organisations that aren't as well known and are often having to fund their activities from their own pockets and relying on the kindness of the volunteers they have to work for nothing in order to save as many dogs as they can from being unnecessarily being destroyed.

Just a Staffy Cross.

Today is just another day - to me they're all the same
I have the worst of genes you see, I bear the "Staffy" shame.
The shame is in our numbers, there's thousands with no home.
Thousands just like me you'll find, in kennels all alone.

My mum was "just a Staffy", my father - well who knows?
Mum, too, became unwanted, as the last puppy goes.
And then begins the process, of money-making deals
A life of "moving on" unfolds, who cares how the Staffy feels?
If you have the cash to hand, the Staffy pup is yours
But that pup is getting bigger now, just look at those big paws.

You brought me for your image, thought I'd make you look more tough
But you'll find my boisterous nature has already got too much.
If you had thought to train me, with kindness and with praise
You would have had a faithful friend to share your darkest days.
I would lay down my life for you, but you simply cannot see
You make sure you get your money back on what you paid for me.

And on it goes, until one day, I'm no longer worth a dime
The retail on an adult staff - not worth the waste of time.
So what happens to a Staffy now? Do you really want to know?
Do you care what will become of us, when we leave our final home?

Have you ever thought to wonder, "Where is that Staffy now?"
The "Staffy" has another name; he's become a "stray" somehow.
Me, I was put into a car and driven far away
The door held open, I jumped out, I thought to run and play.
It was with joy and happy heart I turned to look for you
You drove away with all my trust and a piece of my heart too.

I wandered round for many days before I was brought here.
Now I wait with heavy heart, trepidation and with fear.
Seven days is all I have you see, seven days for you to claim
The little dog that you threw out, for which you have no shame.

This is my last goodbye now my seven days are up
If only more thought had gone into the future of that pup
As the needle empties to my veins I lay down with one last sigh
I'm sorry I was born a Staff, because it means that I must die.

By Anon

Taken from staffierescue.co.uk another small but wonderful organisation who work with the much misunderstood staffie breed and their crosses.