Tarr might have been the dog who did a little scent marking on the table at the sweatshop where I was working on this stained glass but I'm not sure. I thought the decent thing to do would be to wipe it up, no matter which dog did it, and when I was down at floor level, I found bloodstains all over the floor. Yikes.
I have bled for this project myself but not enough to leave large stains on the floor. But add to that getting burned by the soldering iron, possibly poisoned by flux, getting a sore neck and butt, spending many otherwise beautiful days indoors and many dollars, I declare I will never make stained glass again.
Even so, I am pleased with the way it turned out and hope it will fit in the place that it was created to fit. (See red oval).