Dogs Steal Yarn

So sad.

They were noble socks that served you well, and will be lovingly remembered.

I'll knit a few rounds on a sock tonight in their honor.

Goodnight, sweet socks. May flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.

Oh, Sassy Socks, we will miss you. You were perfect for our dear yarn-haired ragdoll...

The first pair to go is always the hardest to face.

Maybe the single intact sock will become a home for some furry creature.

that should have said -

*sniff*

damn HTML.

RIP pretty little sock.
Thumper is looking super cute in his knitted items.
Lucky boy!

Oh, I so feel your pain. I can tell, however, that the pair were much loved during their lifetime. May they rest in peace.

Oh, dear. A sad day for the Brooklyn Sock Mafia. I'll think of this pair of socks as I work on my current pair of Socks of Doom.

*sniff*

Rest easy, dudes.

My sincere condolences.

They probably committed suicide after that "Born Free" rendition....

I . . . I could have saved them. My darning egg is weeping. I could have saved them. Sniff sniff.

Oh! how sad! se les echará de menos...

so I would cut the feet off and use the tops as cuffs and just hem the cut off part...they are definitely too much work to throw away and would be styling as arm and wrist cuffs....cedar

I would have done the same.

Time to knit a replacement pair!

As you so wisely told me the other day, "now you get to knit some more."

sniff sniff

Farewell, sassy socks.

Oh what a beautiful post, I am crying as I type this. At least they had a long and happy life together.

;)

How brave to share your pain and heartache with all of us. I shall do some socknitting in their memory.

i'm so sorry to hear about your loss...time to knit another pair!!

Sniff. Farewell.

i'm going to go back to my sock in progress in honor of your first sock!

I feel I should wear a black knit armband in commiserating your loss.

All things must pass. I'll give the sassy socks a 5-dpn salute when I get home.

The saasy socks are dead! Long live the sassy socks! I will think of them as I do the toe decreases on my Trekking XXL socks at lunch.

Sometimes it's better just to let go...

So sorry for your loss. But, but, no cremation ceremony? No funeral pyre? Or maybe that is illegal in Brooklyn.

I love the idea of cutting off the feet and making a pair of wristies. When my own beloved first pair (I think of them as My Power Socks) develops a suppurating ulcer like yours, perhaps I shall reincarnate them on my hands/arms. Hmmm. If the cuff is long enough, one could, with a few strategically-placed stitches, make them into fingerless gloves. Somehow that all makes their demise as socks easier to contemplate.

Dude. :( But perhaps a heel transplant would work. You could have a Franken-sock. *g*

Darn!

I really mean it: have you tried darning, for socks almost to that level? It's amazing and satisfying and away to extend the lives of beloved socks.

A friend of mine also makes sewn cat-toys out of old, holey felted wool socks: just cut and stitch.

Still, sympathies to your loss!

Aww. Print these comments to bury with the socks. They're all so heartfelt.

I'm quite afraid my only pair of handknit socks will meet a similar premature death due to the lack of handknit compadres.

That hole is not life-threatening. Maybe you can use them for darning practice?

But as you say, its a good reason to
1.buy more yarn
2.knit

Needlefelt over the hole, works a treat. The wristers idea is nice.

I'm with the "re-store/re-knit/salvage" group. You may still need another pair of socks, but maybe this pair can be salvaged through darning (although it's a pretty large area to darn), or even picking up and knitting a new heel flap. May I suggest using some of the Scholler "knitalong" nylon fibre next time for the heel, to reinforce it and extend it's life? Finding a new use for it also appeals to me--such as wristlets, fingerless gloves, etc. They are very sassy and deserve a reincarnation. (And you deserve to knit another pair for spare or whatever!!)
Marlyce

While I know that no other socks can replace this first pair in your heart, I hope that, with time, you are able to remember the good times you had together, and perhaps smile.

Excuse me while I get a tissue.

(As I write this, I am wearing my first socks and shudder at the thought of the day when they go to the big sock darning drawer in the sky.)