fabric graveyard

Rag retrieval should be an olympic sport, then I could at least say that Simon's in training. This is what I woke up to this morning. After heeding the little guy's call four times and responding with a 'good boy' salutation and some chin scratches to first a black t-shirt, then a rag with paint, then another rag carrying mainly dirt, then yet another rag washed in a different paint shade, I decided it was time to stop the positive reinforcement. But he just went back out again and found a rag so old that it crunched when I bent it. Good stuff. It did make quite a beautiful pile though. Like a rag pile of love. He means so well.