Slice Of Kitty Pi

At my first job, there was a woman who would bring muffins to the office almost daily. Mind you, these weren't for mass consumption; she brought muffins only for the two big cheeses who could make a difference in her career. When she was selected to attend a tradeshow, when historically it had been the person in my position, I chalked it up to Muffin Madness.

My current boss informed me that my predecessor routinely brought him bagels in the morning, as well as making a delicious Irish Soda Bread for St. Patrick's Day. In turn, I informed him that all of those carbs and all of that sugar weren't healthy.

Lucky for me, I do not have to court his favor by bread alone. He's a cat person, so we're given to swapping kitty stories on a near-daily basis. He genuinely enjoys my little nuggets of Snicker's antics. Like the time Joe scolded me for giving her a bit of rotisserie chicken, on the grounds that it would make her sick. "If she can digest rabbit head without difficulty, I don't think a sliver of chicken will send her to Animal E.R.", I retorted.

Last week, he asked if I would be willing to knit a catbed for his cat, Holly. I've been on a small felting jag (if one Crazy Aunt Purl Mini Bag counts as a "jag") of late, and what could be easier than a Kitty Pi bed? I settled on Wool of the Andes over the suggested Big Kureyon. My recent experiences with Silk Garden and Korchoran have put me off the Noro for awhile.

Naturally, there's the issue of being compensated for materials and time. The first is tangible; I produce a receipt for yarn. But how do I charge for time? If I'm knitting something for my boss is it permissible to knit at work? Probaby not, but it sure seems like I could rationalize it...