Evil has arrived:
Posy is drawn to yarn like a moth to a flame. This is problematic, since it isn't enough that she play with the yarn, or pounce on it or bat it with a paw: no, she must needs eat the yarn. She's like a zombie going after brains. Is that yarn you have? Then Get. It. In. Mah. Belleh!!
When I knit, therefore, I always have to keep an eye on where she is in relation to my knitting. She is not above doing an innocent act either, and I am not below falling for it. She will come up to me all purring and sweet looking, perhaps sticking out the tip of her tiny pink tongue for cute emphasis. She will climb into my lap, very much Lucy with the football: I will not touch your knitting this time; I'm just going to sit here and purr on your lap and gaze at you in admiration. So then I am all knit, knit, knit; and she is all purr, purr, purr. Until: ATTACK! She can stand it no longer! She must attack and kill that impudent sweater sleeve and the yarn snake that is attached to it!! Arrrgghhhh!
So when I am knitting, and Posy suddenly de-lurks, thusly,
I know it is going to end in tears...or at the very least, one heck of a tangle.