Two Years

Two years ago today I lost my soul-dog, my diabetic alert dog Herbert. He was not perfect, but he was perfect for me. I still miss him, but it no longer hurts every day and I can finally look at photos of him and remember happy times with laughter and smiles instead of soul-crushing despair – huge progress for me. My blood sugar control has not been better without him as he really made a positive difference in my health; but I’m working on it.

I still miss him so much; but I’m going to be okay.



I haven’t been writing a lot lately, neither here or on social media because, well, time. We have been living in the new house since the first of the year and have gotten 95% of our crap mess possessions here.

In other news I have too many possessions. Also, I do not seem to have enough time.


Ok, this is not in any way animal related – well, I mean, we can reeeealllly stretch and say oil originally started off as critters…too far? Yeah, thought so.

So, I love the small generator. There is no oil filter, you just remove the logical and well thought out hex headed drain plug, drain the old crud out, screw the plug back in, put new oil in and poof! done.

Biggie? Changing Biggie’s oil should have taken me 20 – 30 minutes.

Four. Hours.

It took me four [expletive] hours. Allow me to detail:

I decide to change oil in the generators and I start with the smaller generator.

15 minutes later, the small generator oil has been drained. Air filter washed and drying.

I then begin reading manual on how to change Biggie Generator’s oil. It unhelpfully refers me to find the engine manual (never did find it) for additional details. *sigh*

Attempt to remove oil filter. No movey. Attempt to stab with screw driver, deflected. Is this dang thing made of super reinforced adamantium or something?! Alrighty then, I’ll start over with the oil draining part.

Square head? I don’t have a rachet fitting for that. I attempt to use channel locks which indents the plug…what, is it made of silly putty? lead? Why is it *so* soft?! Attempt to use a pipe wrench….not enough room. Fine!

I’m going back to the oil filter. Go obtain drill, drill hole in [expletive] oil filter, stab hole with screw driver, remove oil filter. Small Victory! *does cabbage patch dance*

Internet’s advice on stuck oil plug: lube it, beat it, heat it, destroy it.

Used penetrating oil – it didn’t help. Couldn’t find a hammer so I beat the soft square plug using the back of a hatchet, it didn’t help. Now, do not do what I did next, I moved onto the “heat it” step by using a propane torch, sadly it didn’t help but YAY! I didn’t die. Didn’t want to destroy it…….

[Expletive] you Biggie Generator, I’mma flip you over. Using the pure strength given to me by rage, I flipped that generator and managed to drain about half a quart out of the generator where the oil filter used to be, but still not enough. There is still too much oil. That’s when husband (via phone) suggests using the siphon pump and a glorious sunbeam lit up the siphon pump….or I had inhaled too many vapors at this point, whatever….it’s fine! I grabbed that siphon and started pumping and it was a beautiful sight as that old oil started filling the pan and I smiled, knowing I was close to the end. And that’s when the drain hose released from the hand pump and then there was old oil EVERYWHERE. Like a CSI murder scene, just with cruddy engine oil instead of blood dripping from every surface. I said, [expletive] it! Kept pumping and I drained that damn oil tank! VICTORY WAS MINE! I mean, I looked like an extra from Beverly Hillbillies after they struck oil (oddly moisturizing, not recommending it….but fyi), but I had drained enough of that [expletive] oil to finish up.

I installed the new oil filter and filled Biggie up with new oil and then began the clean up. It was a LOT of clean up.

I really do enjoy mechanical work, but WOW I really might not be a natural talent at it.

Update: I have now purchased the CORRECT ratchet doo-dad to remove that nut/plug as well as a replacement square nut/plug so I can send the old one to hell WHERE IT BELONGS!

Scooting & Smurfs

Nothing quite like a 90lb Humphrey-dog running inside after completing his morning constitutional and dropping his booty on the ground and scooting. Ah, the booty scoot. Is it a recalcitrant turd? parasites? a piece of grass or string? The canid can be a stunningly strong and regal creature, however ain’t none of that happening during a scoot. It just looks embarrassing and awkward to do, hell it feels embarrassing and awkward just to see it.

Poor Humphalumph, he has an irritated booty-hole. So, I spent my morning cleaning his asshole affected area with baby wipes and then treated it with a 2% chlorhexidine ointment…..which is bright blue.

So now poor Humphrey looks like he ate too many Smurfs and is having issues digesting them.

Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

Do ya ever sit and look at your peaceful and deeply sleeping dogs and seriously consider curling up right next to them and then BARKING REALLY LOUDLY FOR NO DISCERNABLE REASON?!?!?
No? Just me then. 😜
I haven’t done it, but only because dogs don’t understand sarcasm or revenge and where’s the fun in that? 😒

Tips & Tricks

Tip: Randomly feed wet food to your dog from a wooden spoon. Then, when they have to receive medicine you can hide it in the wet food on a spoon and you will not be regarded with suspicion (my dogs are generally suspicious jerks).

Also, spooning the food saves on dishes.

I prefer to teach with small wooden spoons so no teeth clack onto metal, but once they learn to slurp from a spoon you can change up spoon type if needed.

Also, can teach them using this to “everyone sits, or nobody gets” and then to only take their spoonful when their name is called. Helpful for teaching dogs to deal with frustration with patience.

So, welcome to my new “category”. Because I am shocked and appalled on a daily basis at how very little I know, I try to learn more. However, it seems like the more stuff I learn, the more other stuff falls right out of my head – important stuff, like looking where the heck I am WALKING. In related news, I fell down and fractured a wee little piece off of my ankle. *sigh*

Anywhoodle, I realized today that I’m never going to have time to write down all the random things I do to make my life easier with dogs unless I actually start writing them down. Most of these posts will be super short and to the point and all will be categorized under Tips & Tricks.

Use them if they help you, ignore them if they don’t. If you have any suggestions I would LOVE to try them.

Smooches, FoodLady.

All Mah Doggies!

FoodLady Chronicles – Dear all mah doggies edition:

Dear Dobby, you are annoyingly confident at home. Yes, annoyingly. Yet, the real world causes you great trepidation. Could you pretty please add both sides of your personality and divide by two? Also, continue being adorable – it has kept me from killing you.

Dear Humphrey, duuuuuuude. You have turned into like 89% of a great dog. I LOVE how much you LOVE people and how you get all serene and happy when a baby is pulling on your ears and face; seriously, all of that is wonderful. Less wonderful is that you have now decided that the generator noise is super scary and now, after well over a month of intermittent generator use, you refuse to go outside to the poopin’ yard to, well, “go” if one is running. Instead, you leave toilet clogging (literally) presents directly in front of the OPEN door often with an adjacent liquid surprise. I will continue taking you out separately until fence is built, because…

Dear SamSam, please continue being awesome. You have just turned 5 and have entered the glorious age of no-longer-an-asshole. You deserve all the belly rubs and tennis balls.

Dear Ziesa, you are the baby. I know other people see a big strong dog, but to me you just look like a itty bitty wittle princess. I truly believe you are the soul of a teacup purse dog trapped in a 60lb boxerbull body. Continue being adorable and weird.

Love, FoodLady.

Dammit Dobby!

FoodLady Chronicles – Dammit Dobby Edition:

I gave him a plastic toy which he was gleefully destroying while I wrote work emails. I could hear the happy chewy plastic noises, it didn’t even occur to me he had moved onto the next item. My item. My Bluetooth ear buds that I use to listen to audiobooks while I fall asleep, or as I call them: my nubbins.

Rest In Peace right nubbin and most of charging case, you were loved.

*in tune of “off to see the wizard” begins singing*, “🎶…we’re off to kill the Dobby, the disastrous Dobby of doom…🎶”

[Unlike beloved electronics, no actual Dobby’s were killed or maimed due to, or because of, any topics discussed in this post and any wounding, death, and/or maiming which occur following this post is to be considered completely coincidental and accidental.]

WTF Birds?

Okay, so…Monday was a mourning dove (pigeon) and Wednesday was a starling (I think?). Why. Are. Birds. Coming. Into. My. House?! Note: no animals were harmed during these bird intrusion and release events. Although my beloved idiot dogs now keep wandering around staring at the ceiling hoping against hope that another bird will begin flapping excitedly.


Dear Humphrey,

Dude. I understand that it’s raining and that your 100lb butt is truly a delicate flower whose main skill appears to be slurping humans when we least expect it, but did you have to poop right in front of the open door? Also, what possible canine joy could have come from managing to land that chihuahua-sized log perfectly centered on the extension cord?

I think I might hate you.