FoodLady Chronicles-Ms. Drama Edition

Dear Life (the dog, not the concept),
that whole debacle was a bit much. You are 100lbs of the most delicate princess I have ever seen. I found a tick which meant it was TIME FOR EVERYONE’S PESTICIDES. Herbert (dog) & Sam (dog) received their stinky neck goop with only a wee bit of fuss. However, when it was your turn, I looked up to see your fuzzy butt quickly sashaying out the door.  I grabbed your dose and hobble-hopped out the door behind you without shoes and without….well….pants. I proclaimed loudly that, “I WASN’T GOING TO CHASE YOU ALL OVER THE YARD IN MY UNDERWEAR!” and, “YOU HAVE HIP DYSPLASIA; THIS SHOULDN’T BE SO DAMN HARD!” (dear reader, this was a lie–I was chasing her all over the yard in my underwear AND it was WAY harder than it should have been). FoodDude came out (wearing both pants AND shoes, like that’s normal?) and proclaiming his shod feet were more appropriate for following your fuzzy butt under the flamboyant tree. You almost convinced him that the stinky neck goop was, in fact, a violation of the Geneva Convention by digging a small hole and burying your face in it (despite all evidence to the contrary Life is certain that if she can’t see us, we can’t see her) but despite your woeful demeaner I managed to convince him that you needed the stinky neck goop to keep you healthy! So, I am sorry you had to have stinky neck goop put on you despite your extreme overemotional display and your magical invisibility spell, but perhaps you could dial down the drama a wee bit? Love, FoodLady.

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