Dear Teak (aka Doodle aka old man aka jerk), I know me cooking meat 2 days in a row is fairly unprecedented and that it smells wonderful. However, you really need to learn that smell does NOT equal substance and hearing you smack your teeth together as if the air is edible is just creepy. Please knock it off. Love, FoodLady.

FoodLady Chronicles: Prey Edition

Dear Herbert, you stalked and devoured your prey earlier like a wolf bringing down a caribou–I am ever so proud. That said, it was only a fly; maybe you don’t need to patrol the house and stare at each and every window screen in the hopes of further hunting? And please stop staring at any bumps in the concrete walls–they are not a fly, they have never been a fly, and regardless of your longing they will not turn into a fly. Also, you staring at a wall for 5 – 10 minutes at a time makes you look……special.
Knock it off.
Love, FoodLady

FoodLady Chronicles – When FoodLady needs food and disturbs loved ones with irreverent humor edition:

So, when making the hyperbolic declaration that I will not be buying anymore food whatsoever because, screw it, I will save money if it kills me, dammit! And when a loved one asks with concern if I have food in the house apparently they were a little (lot) disturbed when I referred to Teak (aka Doodle) as the mutton of the dog world

FoodLady Chronicles – the, did not expect that edition:
No shit, there I was, looking out at my front yard at the brown lump and the blonde lump laying in the lawn…..damn Herbert-dog is canoodling with NotSpot-dog. I wander out and call in an annoyingly precocious singsong, “NotSpot, what-cha doo-in?” and whatever calculation his little puppy brain was working on to determine risk vs. reward relative to the presence of humans just exploded out of his little puppy brain and with a brave wiggle and a high-pitched little whine that can only be translated as FOODLADYWHOGAVEMECHEESEEARLIER!!!!! ran straight to me and when I sat on the ground he climbed into my lap and proceeded to levitate with joy and puppy stupidity.
So, NotSpot is now a fan of food-lady. Herbert is super distracted. Gertrude-cat wanted attention and attempted to lay on the hammock and flipped herself off 4 times, and that will never not be funny. All seems normal here. Night y’all

FoodLady Chronicles – OOTO Edition:

Dear Herbert, from this point forward please submit your leave requests at least 1 week in advance of needed day off. While understandable, ditching FoodLady to spend the day at the beach with NotSpot is not cool.
……
Yep. The jerk took a mental health day. I know he went to the beach because he is all salty.
He is home safe. (the jerk)

Yep. Teach dogs to open things the little fuckers extrapolate. NotSpot is a shiny new dog to play with and Herbert’s punishment for not being present when it was time to leave was a day not with me. My landlord fixed the gate over the weekend but it still needs some fine tuning. Since NotSpot is currently chillin’ in my yard I’m gonna assume he can still fit under it just fine. As soon as I earn the wee little bugger’s trust I shall scamper with him to the vet to have his balls chopped off. Nothing cements trust more than the removal of testicles……wait….

Food Lady Chronicles – damn stray edition:
Well, good morning young intact brown dog with a white spot who will not be named spot playing with Herbert. Notspot, I am not your foodlady. Yes, I am Herbert’s food lady. Oh, he said he’d share? Fine. Here. Have some kibble. Dammit. After kibble Notspot wiggled under the main gate in the only spot not covered with cinderblock. Herbert was doing so good, he wanted to leave but couldn’t fit! Yay! Until he managed to wiggle past the damned cinder block and off like a shot to follow Notspot to…..whothehellknows, probably the beach. ~sigh~
Stupid Notspot! Luring him away with his fancy beach

02:47 – You-Cat & Pratchett-Cat: “I am a boy cat and I hate you!” “Well, I am a boy cat and I hate you more!” “Get off my shelf!” “Fuck you, it’s my shelf!”   All of this actually sounded like, “raaaaawr hiss yoooooowwwl hiss” repeatedly, but I am fairly certain I heard the “fuck you” come through rather clearly.

02:47:02 – Herbert-dog: “BARK BARK BARK THERE ARE CATS DAMMIT AND YES I KNOW THEY ARE THE SAME DAMN CATS I SEE EVERY DAY BUT RIGHT NOW THEY HATE EACH OTHER AND I FIND THAT VERY EXCITING AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! BARK BARK BARK—WHIIIIIIINNNNNEEE!”

02:47:05 – Food Lady, now awake and rather pissed: “God Dammit! Someone better be bleeding or so help me GOD someone will be very shortly!” stomps ass out into the kitchen….turns on lights making both stupid male cats blink while looking at me with a “what?” expression. Herbert, losing his goddamned mind is trying to figure out how to leap up on top of the cabinets. “Okay. You are all assholes.” Life-dog standing right next to me, looking nervous and shifting from foot to foot “sorry, Life—not you, you are the only good puppy.” “Teak, dammit! There is NO toast for you right now!” “ENOUGH! Herbert! Leave it. Everyone canine? Bedroom, now”.   All canines trot into the bedroom looking at each other with a, “damn, what crawled up her ass” look on their faces. The jerks.

02:50 – Food Lady closes bedroom door, cats outside…dogs in. Sleep happens.

Now, I wasn’t awake for this part but I am pretty sure this is what happened:

I figure about 06:00 – Teak-dog begins lamenting his lack of toast. Life-dog continues to snore. Herbert-dog is bored and would like someone to play with him now. Teak-dog growls at Herbert-dog. Life-dog wakes up and growls and Teak-dog & Herbert-dog.

This repeats. A lot.  

Around 06:20 Teak Dog starts panicking….there could be toast! Right now! In the kitchen! But this damn door is in the way. He begins to circle. This excites Herbert-dog who goes to wake up Life-dog by licking her face. She hates that very much and to continually show her his love and devotion he continues to do that….but now with a wagging tail. Knocking. On. The. Door.

This causes Teak-dog to FREAK OUT! It is the toast man is here! Let him in! BARK BARK BARK BARK FUCKING BARK!

And at 06:23 on a Sunday morning Food Lady says, Good morning!

I awoke to my bed vibrating as a deep, violent growl emanated from Herbert-dog as he stared out the window. Curious, I peeked and began cussing. I threw on shoes and saw the perpetrator was still at it….the son of a bitch!
As the contents of my garbage can rotted gently down the street and the skittish blonde dog feasted mightily on paper plates and kiwi peels I watched Herbert storm the gate and slide below it with no hesitation and I began to wonder, *holy shit? Maybe I should be concern…..* I didn’t even get to finish that thought because next thing I know Herbert-dog is now inviting skittish blonde dog to play! Because isn’t garbage amazing! And you are my newest bestest friend in the whole world! We absolutely should run around like fools! Weeeeeeee! Best. Day. Ever!!!!!!!
And with an ever-resigned-to-my-fate half-grin food lady got to throw on some gloves and pick up garbage while sympathetic passers-by gave me that  “damn, that sucks….”expression and my idiot dog runs around with a blonde stray playing, no, you’re awesome strayblondedog! I never thought about opening the cans before! Pure genius! Hey! Let’s go find more stinky things! You are way more fun than my pack! 
…..and good morning y’all.

FoodLady Chronicles – Thunderstorms: Dear Life & Teak, I understand neither of you enjoy thunderstorms, but there is really nothing to be so deathly afraid of, so please stop giving me those panicked looks while trying to climb under the couch because, although funny to watch about 200lbs of dog fit into a 2″ gap–it breaks my heart when you are scared. So chill out; we’re okay.
Now, Mr. Herbert? I understand you think Ms. Life & Mr. Teak are overreacting, and you would be correct. That said, running around the yard like a fool throwing your toys in the air while lightning and thunder crash above your head? You are underreacting. Not respecting the storm’s potential is not wise Mr. Dorkface. Knock it off.
Much love always,
FoodLady.