New Lows in Craftiness?

 This past fall, my parents adopted not one, not two, but THREE puppies from a foster home.  And when I say "puppies", I don't mean adolescents.  I mean chewing-up-your-shoes-accidents-in-the-house-never-stop-moving puppies.

They already had another dog who was grieving over the loss of his brother and pack leader, so they looked and looked for the perfect companion for him.  Apparently they were hedging their bets by getting three.

The 3 Amigos

During the run-up to last Christmas, as I was gluing 89 billion Christmas balls to a foam wreath (it's just better if you don't ask why), I thought about my dog-crazy parents and said to myself, "They should have a wreath made of dog bones. (Insert Beavis and Butt-head laugh here.)"  Then, a very dim light bulb went on, and I thought, "They should have a WREATH made of DOG BONES!"

Since I don't really enjoy figuring out how to do stuff myself, I combed Al Gore's greatest invention and came up with...Nothing.  Shocker.

Six months later, I revisited the project with the main question being how to seal all those bones so the wreath didn't end up as a giant bug buffet.

Two words for you: Mod Podge.

At this point, you are marveling at my tenacious crafting spirit.  Or you now understand why my house looks the way it does.

Here is the end result:

I don't know if my parents were impressed or scared.  I think it's pretty cute, but we don't have a dog. Yet.