My yesterday….

Woke up – owwww. Sunburned badly. Own fault, met a friend at the beach to catch up.

Then the computer update from hell, I kept TRYING to make it work. It kept crashing my computer. My rage was large, so packed up my work and brought it with me.

Drove to mid-island to do a dual doggie pickup, (1 to spay & vacc. + 1 to receive 3rd vaccine) (aside: business plan? Take people who are too busy’s animals to vet?) a pretty female named Kahlua (pibble) and male named Jameson (Dane mix puppy).

Kahlua was happy to come with me, Jameson was very passive-resistant “don’t kidnap me!” and HATES leashes.

So, I had their human’s key to his (crazy heavy) rolling gate. I also had a big ass garbage bag full of boxes I had meant to stop and dispose of ON MY WAY which I completely forgot to actually do. This is a TJ Jeep Wrangler, they are NOT made for storage. So, since I was going to be back with Jameson in a couple of hours I put the big bag of trash inside his gate and took the key with me.

Get to shelter clinic and Ms. Kahlua was taken back to get ready for surgery and since Mr. Jameson was “just here for a shot” we waited for a few to see the vet. Vet says, “why isn’t he neutered?!” I said, “his human said he was, and his vet records ALSO say neutered!” I had actually asked his human the night before if he was SURE he was neutered because there were small testicles there! Guess what, he wasn’t neutered. So, throw him on the schedule and they take him back.

At that point I settle in and make myself more angry by attempting to continue to fix my computer.

But then a box of happy healthy fostered puppies needed weighing so I Scrooge McDucked into the box and let them snurfle snuffle my head before weighing them. They were so dang cute.

Back to my computer, the shelter’s WiFi keeps dropping because the internet on this island has been having “issues”. And what made me mad is their internet provider told them it keeps dropping because, “they have their printers and computers set up to wirelessly talk to each other…” I had to explain to them that is not what has caused the dropping and that the nice man LIED to them. *sigh* Be meticulous with your words people.

So then, the vet comes out with a post-surgical (floppy) cat, looked around, saw me, and hands me the cat and said, “keep her alive.” (The vet is kind of an awesome smartass) So when I raised my eyebrow and cocked my head a bit (FoodLady for “uh, say what now? More details needed.”) She said, “it’s a specialty breed of cat and her human’s other cat had passed away from a horrible disease recently and I don’t want anything bad to happen to this cat.” So then I was counting breaths while still updating my damn computer. Y’all, this *was* the softest cat I have ever felt in my life and it had cute little stubby ears. So, lots of gentle pets and breathing rate counts for her – lots of gentle cursing and restarting for my computer. Once she fully woke up with a decided, “where da fuq AM I?! And who da fuq ARE you?! And why you hate your computer so much?!” expression on her face, she got to go into a kitty condo to wait for her humans. And then there were feral kittens that needed ticks picked off, fleas combed out, and ears cleaned before coming out of anaesthesia (they were treated for fleas and ticks, but there were A LOT). One little orange girl (I know, all the orange kitties have been girls there lately!? Weird.) woke up PISSED and fiesty, so I had to put the little 1lb terror of claws and teeth in her cage because holy crap! I find working with a 150lb raging rottweiler much easier than trying to wrangle a pissed off 1lb kitten.

Then back to my computer – guess what, still updating. I breathe through the need to throw it across the room.

So, the two dogs I brought in are ready so I settle up the bill and bring my jeep up to the front and load up my stuff. Then walk back in to get the babies. Slight problem, Kahlua is bleeding. Fuuuuuuck.

So, even though her gums did not look anemic and it was most probably a superficial (just under the skin) bleeder, to be safe – back into surgery we go. I saw we, because at this point I had wormed my way into surgery because these dogs are my responsibilities and I wanted to know what the hell was going on. Of course, my phone is in the jeep with all my stuff so I didn’t have a chance to inform their human or my husband where the hell I was. Husband, being a resourceful person, called a friend at the animal shelter who brought her phone to me and I told him what was going on. Before the bleeder, I had messaged the dogs’ human that if he wanted to come by to pick them up (forgetting I still had his gate key, btw) he could. Because my Ziesa’s bleeding after surgery turned out to be Tick Fever, I made them test Kahlua for Tick Fever. Her CBC was borderline but the specific tick fever test was negative. Phew.

When Kahlua’s second surgery was over (it was a superficial bleed and now cauterized) the clinic had been officially closed for almost two hours. Two vet techs were staying until Kahlua woke up (we decided it was better for her to stay there overnight) so I went out to get my phone which informed me I had missed A LOT and it was at 3% battery. I went back in and grabbed Jameson and put him in the jeep. I then went back in to ask about Kahlua’s meds when my husband calls to tell me that the dogs’ human is outside at the clinic because, 1. His Dogs; and 2. He was locked out of his house (I suck). So we explain to the poor dude what had happened, he got to cuddle Kahlua a bit while she woke up. I gave him the bill, meds, Jameson (I didn’t wanna go with the lady! I didn’t! She stoleded me!) and his key and apologized for the insanity of the day.

Only on the way home did I remember I had left a giant bag of trash inside this guy’s yard!

So, this can be looked at a couple different ways. Either I picked up his dogs for some much needed veterinary care, and when things went sideways I stayed with them to provide as much comfort, support, and assistance as I could OR, I kidnapped his dogs and left a bag of trash in their place, had them both drugged and cut open (Kahlua twice!), locked him out of his house, and disappeared.

I swear, I was aiming for the first way!

When I got home, I was given a sniffing like I have never been given before! “Yep, yep! There were kitties here! And here! Oooh, this one smells like a fancy kitty from the Ukraine! And puppies! And doggies! And holy crap, more kitties over here too! Where the hell did FoodLady go?!”

And now for today’s adventure to begin!

Love, FoodLady. ♡♡♡


Sam vs. Electric Fence

Y’all, this is SamSam; he is an asshole.

Don’t get me wrong, he loves people, loves children and cats/kittens, he loves puppies and small dogs and will tolerate new and strange adult dogs very well, he will fetch tennis balls until the end of time and he has been through multiple obedience classes, and he is generally a loveable clown – so much so he even sleeps funny.

But he is an ASSHOLE.

There is a saying that is *very* true living on a tropical island: “If you have one, you have none. If you have two, you have one.”

In other words, if you don’t have a backup, ya got nothing. We did not (we do now!) have a backup electric fence energizer and while it was down Mr. SamSam the acrobatic asshole figured out he could jump onto a tree stump, leap up and over the electric fence coil onto a concrete pillar, and then jump down to enjoy freedom to pee on other trees and look for some pretty ladies at the clerb. (Yes, he’s neutered; no, it hasn’t stopped him from “getting stuck”. He’s all, “hey ladies, all the fun and no puppies!!” *face-palm*)

We reenergized last night (wooo!) and husband and I were high-fiving and fist-bumping in celebration on the porch and here comes SamSam just trotting over to see why we were so happy. He came by way of the stump, pillar, road.

Dude. Some days are just hilariously challenging.

Update: The acrobatic asshole has left the yard seven times today……oh! wait, that’s eight. How do I know? Because the other dogs go batcrap crazy and bark at him every time he does his triple back flip barrel roll handstand maneuver.

Watch “Dogs Tested to See Whether They’d Defend Owner During Home Invasion” on YouTube

So, this video didn’t surprise me in the slightest.


Because to paraphrase, the strength of the pack is the dog; and the strength of the dog is the pack.

In other words, when you have a single dog, *you* are their pack. If you are already defeated, the pack is defeated and the dog is gonna leave. You can train them to be guard dogs and they will respond differently, but without specialty and ongoing training – a single dog gonna leave a scary situation.

Now, with two dogs (regardless of size), it’s usually a different story because they have backup. With three dogs the response will escalate.

Now, if someone breaks in when no one is home, it is incredibly rare that a single dog would engage in any way. Even two dogs would rarely respond aggressively, because dogs don’t really care about stuff; they care about pack.

Just some FoodLady thoughts for a Monday.

Back down to the final four! Wooo!

FoodLady Chronicles – Dobby is Rested; Ziesa Now Sad edition:

Things have been busy lately in the Lady’s House of Food – you can tell cause of the no “typey typey”. I’m fixin’ to have a bit of a lull (yay!) so let’s see if we can get back to chronicling my mundane life with dogs.

To sum up, my beloved Dobby is an asshole. I mean, he is kinda awesome and a great dog to do training work with new dogs, but he is the highest energy dog I have. He also “woo’s more than I would like, has no work ethic (“you threw the ball, it bounced over there, I looked, it was hard so I gave up.”), and tends to chew the collars off of Ziesa. However, we had a Bella puppy for over a week and her energy levels are still cranked up to high energy + puppy! She wore him OUT. It was awesome. Then we had a Snoopy until he flew to his new home yesterday. The shelter told me Snoopy was very full of energy and that it wouldn’t be possible to tire him out. Meanwhile, Dobby was behind me saying, “CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!” and those two just ran and ran and played and played and then drank, slept, ate and repeated. Mr. Snoopy flew to his new home yesterday and Dobby slept for about 20 hours and this morning he woke up all bright-eyed and ready to rock. Poor Ziesa, she is back to being his only play buddy – she really enjoyed the vacation while it lasted.

Snoopy at the airport on his way to meet his new people!
Ziesa contemplating murder of a Dobby.
Dobby….being a Dobby.

FoodLady Update

FoodLady Chronicles – house of hounds edition: Morning y’all, I am sorry I haven’t been writing much this last week, it is a freakin’ challenge to write and work and dog – especially when there are EXTRA dogs dogging.

This is a Bella, Bella-princess, Miss Bella Hoppy Pants, or, for no good reason, Piglet. She belongs to a friend who had a family emergency and had to fly off the island for a week or so, he comes back tomorrow. She looks all sleepy and cute (and OMG she is so cute), but she has broken a Dobby. He is *so* tired. I mean, he is so tired from constantly playing with a Bella that I put him in the bedroom to give him a break and he was *grateful* for the rest rather than wanting to come out and keep playing which is completely unprecedented.

And then there is a Snoopy:

Remember airport road dog that I took to the shelter? Yep, that’s a Snoopy. Snoopy is a perfect name for him because he looks like Snoopy and because he is just the NOSIEST dog EVER. Really trying to learn about EVERYTHING. I didn’t take a current picture because, well, I keep forgetting (I will post one later!) The lady that met him fell in love and is adopting him, but she is in New York. So he flies out on the 24th (or 26th) of this month to go meet up with his new humans. YAY! He is in his kennel (laundry room) right now after playing with a Bella and a Ziesa for a few hours and having THE BEST MORNING OF HIS LIFE! To be fair, Snoopy finds everything to BE THE BEST whatever OF HIS LIFE! He weighed in at 42lbs yesterday and I’m not saying he is a beefcake (’cause that is Dobby’s designation), but he is a muscular, athletic, well-built, zoomy little dude. Dobby is just happy to have a buddy he can tag in to play with Bella (random: I googled synonyms for beefcake and the word ladycake was there. I can’t decide if that word is perfect to describe Bella or if the word ladycake means something naughty. I’m torn.).

And just cause she’s snoring against my leg, here is the pretty little Ziesa who is, as always, a beloved fireplug. ♡♡♡

Canine Pickle

Alrighty, since y’all in here are smart n stuff, I’m going to tell you a story and then I will graciously accept any advice/encouragement/kick in the ass I receive.
I’m in a bit of a dog pickle. (I know, shocker, right?)

  1. So, airport road dog (aka Snoopy) is being adopted by the lady that saw me do a bit of a rage cry and growl at the animal shelter that I was, “fucking doing the best I can and I cannot have another fucking dog and if you are seriously trying to shame me (dude didn’t know me) by saying this dog will be put down then bring me the fucking pink euthanisia drug and I will inject it in him myself you heartless asshole”. I have never seen a group of people move so fast to separate me from the guy (who knows me now!) ☺ Anywhoodle, the dog is being flown to the lady at the end of April. He needs a foster home until then and I agreed to pick him up tomorrow. He needs to learn about being in a damn house. And that was the plan. Until…
  2. My one dog training client is a lineman that looks to be about 12 years old – his aunt died last night. He is flying home on the first flight out tomorrow. I scheduled to get the dog’s last set of shots and spayed tomorrow at the shelter. I told him the dog, Bella, can stay with me for his 7 to 10 day trip and he is going to pay me (woo!) She has to learn that she doesn’t own everything and that other dogs are awesome. In other words, she’s kind of a like a spoiled snowflake who never heard the word no and was home schooled so she doesn’t know how to talk to the other kids so says random things like, “I put jelly beans in my poop!” or just screams in response to any question.
  3. But then Snoopy loses out.
  4. But what, am I gonna try to wrangle a total of 6 dogs?!
  5. And ugh, that other dog Knuckles that really has potential is freaking back up for adoption. He’s just about 100lbs….but so much potential! *sad*

Anyway, tomorrow should be a busy and interesting day!

Love, FoodLady

Humphrey, the (inept) chicken stalker.

FoodLady Chronicles – Dear Humphrey edition:
Dearest Humphrey, I can only imagine the frustration you’re experiencing because of the stray chicken sitting on the fence about 5 feet away making chicken noises and chicken faces at you. I know that deep down you believe you are a super stealthy chicken hunter, however I feel perhaps no-one has explained to you that barking repeatedly towards any chicken will never result in that chicken climbing into your mouth.

Not animal related in the slightest! Funny though.

Went to WAPA (water and power for those who don’t live on island) yesterday because our bills were weird and I needed to do a name change now that I have my license. Got everything sorted out with no issues, although the office employees appear to have developed a serious case of PTSD because everyone is stressed out over their bills and yelling at them.
But here’s where it got weird (y’all knew it would get weird, this is me – I always (inadvertently) bring the weird.): I went to WAPA PREPARED. Yes, I had the standard requirement of 57 different ways to prove my identity, but I also brought snacks, beverages, and my work with me ’cause I knew it would be a while. I signed in and because every seat in the place was filled, I plopped down on the floor. The dyspeptic-looking guard asked I not sit there because of traffic flow and offered me a chair in another corner. I smilingly replied I had no problem moving but perhaps some of the elderly folks that were standing would appreciate the chair more. Then I proceeded to plop my booty down in an out of the way spot and dove into confined space regulations (work). Little did I know, people sitting on the floor at WAPA makes them *very* unhappy. Seriously, I was completely oblivious, at least until I noticed a WAPA employee waving her arms at the guard frantically and realized a few other employees staring at me through the glass. I smiled and waved and they scattered, so I went back to figuring out what sorts of hazards could occur inside of an emptied cistern, and what kinds of chemical exposure monitoring would be needed depending on type of sealant used, etc. Next thing I notice is the poor beleaguered guard standing next to me with a folding chair saying I was no longer allowed to sit on the floor. I blinked (in my mind, I was in a cistern) and once the words registered I nodded and said, “alright, set me up wherever” and he put the chair right next to where I was and I climbed into it. About 35 seconds later my name was called, the (poor) guard helpfully bellowed, “she’s here, she’s right here! Hold on! She’s on her way!” when they called my name. Now, I can’t swear I got pushed ahead of the line just to get my (apparently troublemaking) butt off the floor, but I also can’t swear I didn’t. However, I can attest to the fact that if you sit on the floor at the WAPA office you will really upset them. Please use this knowledge responsibly. 😈😈😈