The techniques in this book do not only apply to dogs. For a few years now I have been saving the hair collection at the drain of my shower. I have kept this collection in a crystal jar on my dining room table as a shining example, for my far too infrequent dinner guests, that I used to be a whole person. Formerly I kept the black collection in a clear plastic bag that I could hold on top of my head during rainy days to symbolically recall the brief times in my life when I was mildly attractive (Well, at least not revolting as I am today). Recently as I was surfing through this website, an activity that helps me to avoid the rejection of human contact, I stumbled across "Knitting with Dog Hair". At first I moved on, knowing that no dog could ever withstand my pungent odor, only to be snapped back to it like a hangman's rope recoiling the writhing body from the ground. One chapter of this book instructs us to build a hat. I did just that and better. I built the most life like example of a full head of hair with a simple knitting process described in the book. Of course the term "life-like" is only relevant to people who think dropping a piece of carpet on one's head is life-like, or emptying a can or black enamel paint on one's bald dome is life-like, or wearing a hat woven to sit three inches above the surface of my head life-like.
