Good Morning Dogs!

Dear SamSam, Dobby, Hump

Dear assholes,

I am aware you were left alone for 15 hours yesterday. I am thrilled you survived. It must have been HORRIBLE to nap and snack at your leisure.

I understand you all need attention, but working as a team and sitting on top of me to get me moving felt a little excessive. A special jerk shoutout goes to Dobby who decided to sit ON MY HAIR (owie!) with an additional opportunist award going to Piper who licked my face while my hair was pinned (ewww!) (I came up swingin!).

I managed to get one adorable picture of the happiest SamSam who declared it needed to be Fetchin’ Time! by solidly squashing me.

Good morning world, the dogs are FEISTY!

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Virgin Islands FoodLady Tour

FoodLady Chronicles – Virgin Islands Tour Edition: Y’all, yesterday kicked my (adorable) butt. I literally woke up tired this morning and the torrential rainy weather is not helping me get all motivated to do stuffs either. Regardless, there are always stuffs to do and mud pits to dig…oh wait, the dogs are all over that last thing. Yesterday I was privileged enough to be sent for work all the way to St. John (for those unfamiliar, this involved a sea plane to St. Thomas and then a ferry to St. John). This was my very first visit to St. John and I can’t really say that I saw that much of it but it seems adorable. My husband, just as tired as I was yesterday, asked me what I thought of it and my reply was, “….I saw a LOT of wealthy people.” It really is a gorgeous little island with, from what I could see, a LOT of healthy, happy, and loved dogs. That was kind of freaking wonderful to see. ❤

****** random rooster break******
Humprey just galumphed by the office window chasing the evil 3 AM who (unfortunately) made it over the neighbor’s fence. I know, it’s not very nice of me to wish that rooster harm, but he really is an asshole.

So, because I’m me I had a small Ziploc bag of Ziwi Peak dog food in my pocket (why? you don’t? how odd…). I could go into the gloriousness of Ziwi Peak dog food – but I honestly use it for treats for the following reasons: I can’t afford to feed it as food; it is a great food that you can break into teeny tiny pieces for treats; it has yet to ever make any dog gastrointestinally upset; I have yet to meet any animal that doesn’t LOVE it.

After driving around looking for a place for about an hour, we stopped this lovely woman walking her wee-little-STJ-dog to ask for directions. While my coworker discussed with her where we were going, wee-little-STJ-dog and I had some fun: he sat, he danced, we both wiggled – it was a party. That leads to us getting to where we were going and meeting TWO OTHER DOGS!

********random dog behavior note*********
It really is all about how you meet the dog. If dogs make you nervous or in any way scared, they pick up on that within seconds. The co-worker I was with yesterday is very small in stature and I think the large dogs may have made her slightly nervous. The two dogs seemed to pick up on that and were slightly bullying towards her. When we first got there they growled just a tiny bit until they heard me make happy happy noises; they were not acting in any way inappropriate – just feeling us out and protecting their home. But then they met me with the treats and the happy happy and they were SUPER excited.

Anywhoodle, I met me an adult Labradoodle and a 6 month old other-island-rescue. The ‘doodle was a loving yet regal ‘doodle and the puppy had legs made of springs. I love them.
We left there and were heading back to the ferry when we stopped the car because there was a large, healthy, and joyfully free boxer RUNNING in our direction dragging his leash. I mean, full on running – he wasn’t running towards us, he was just running as fast as he could. I opened the door and hopped out and tried to entice him. He stopped for a few seconds, but then “Nope, sorry Lady! Got things!” and kept a’runnin! He stopped again when I did a few play bows, but nope – I think he may have had a girl-dog up the hill “calling” to him. So, we continued on about 500 feet and there was a man with another dog in the car looking around, we pulled up and asked him, “are you looking for a large boy boxer dog?” Yes he was, we told him which direction his wayward canine was headed and the man thanked us and grumbled, “he is *such* an asshole!” and headed off to find his dog. My coworker looked a little shocked that the guy would call his dog an asshole whereas I was feeling a deep and real kinship with this guy and his beloved asshole(s).

Made it back to St. Thomas seaplane and then flew home to St. Croix. I was so happy to be close to home I was rocking out to some music on my headphones while walking to the car.
**MUSICROCKWOOOmeowMUSICMUSICROCKmeeeeeoooooowMUSIC** I take out a headphone and say, “uh….kitty?” “MEEEEEOOOOOOOOOWWWWWW!” I look around and articulately say, “uh…..” and out pops a wee kitten head from the tire of a taxi bus. “fuck,” I say. And thus begins the great kitten wrangling adventure of yesterday.

I busted out the dog treats and my fancy cat call of, “here kitty kitty.” Shockingly, kitty kitty came closer. I (stupidly) assumed this meant the kitty wanted to snuggle. Ha! Kitty done levitated 5 feet up and 5 feet back when I touched her. Hoping there was a magical trick to catching said kitty I contacted the local cat catch, spay/neuter, release super hero and she advised scruffing the cat if I had anything to put her in when I caught her. At this point I had convinced the cat to crawl into a bucket to eat, but she meant something secure where I wouldn’t end up dealing with a flying whirlwind of claws and pain while I drove.

Once I had little kitty all distracted and eating, Big Daddy showed up saunters over and sprays my tire. He also enjoyed a few nibbles of dog treats before he sauntered off to spray other vehicles.

okay then, it appears Big Daddy Cat has fully embraced his inner asshole. Superhero cat-catcher lady drives over with traps and she manags to snaggle both critters into traps and into her car just as another downpour starts. Both kitties will be fixed and released. Woooo!

When I finally got home, the dogs were FASCINATED by the lady who, based on the amount of sniffing that occurred, smelled amazing.

Love,

FoodLady.

FoodLady Chronicles – Day is Done!

This day can suck a….err, this day needs to be over now.

To be fair, this wasn’t a *bad* day, just a LONG day with *way* too much human interaction and adulting in it followed by some awkward wild animal interactions.

Here are some highlights:

  • Went to get fasting bloodwork done. They informed me that my total was going to be $597.51. I articulately asked, “huh?” They informed me that my insurance needed a code written on the form. I took the form to ask doctor about it later.
  • Breakfast was tasty.
  • Pimped out the program I work for on a Spanish radio station. I *really* need to learn Spanish.
  • Doctors appointment.
  • Went to bookstore and bought myself “The Doggist.” excellent photo book.
  • Ordered lunch, after receiving lunch neighboring table had questions about the program I work for, so instead of eating said lunch, pimped out program I work for while lunch looked at me deliciously.
  • Nutritionist Appointment – yep, I know what I’m supposed to do, it’s the doing it part that sucks. Bright side, bloodwork form fixed.
  • Long drive home, listened to music, glad the day is over and going home to play fetches with fuzzies. (spoiler: day wasn’t over)
  • Home, released hounds, begin exciting tennis ball flinging with the “thing-longer” (aka chuck-it). Notice two dogs standing next to chair (this was odd) so I walk to chair and see a cattle egret sitting on the chair (this was odder). Ziesa and Humphrey wanted to play with it, Sam & Dobby were too into tennis balls to notice, and Piper was just standing back and waiting to see what was going to happen. I just stood there for a solid 60 seconds not quite sure what to do. After about 45 seconds Sam and Dobby realized, “holy shit! there’s a bird on the chair!” Shockingly, they all listened to my “leave it!” command (I know! I was equal parts impressed and surprised) and then when I put it close, the bird hopped onto the thing longer (aka chuck-it). So, now I’m wandering around the yard with a bird on a freaking ball-throwing stick with five freaking dogs following me around sure that at any second that I will fling the bird. I check his wing, his left wing is fine but his right has a wound at where the wing meets body. Well, hell. So I walk in the house with the damn bird on the damn thing longer and luer my idiots behind me like a freaking pied piper, grab a towel before securing the dogs, then cover the bird and get in the car. Off I zoom to the I-know-it’s-closed-but-please-be-there-YAY-they’re-there vet clinic. YAY! they agreed to treat/take the egret (bless them!) but asked for my help putting him in a cage. Cockily I assume the wounded and incredibly freaked out wild animal and I have come to a “thing-longer” arrangement and imagine my surprise when he decides to hop off my magical bird stick/tennis ball launcher and awkwardly waddle through the entire clinic while I ineffectually attempt to capture him using a towel. I eventually caught him and we got him into a cage; he will get checked by the vet in the morning.
  • Returned home and finished playing fetches with fuzzies and am now seriously considering just going to bed.

Working From Home

Today was different.

My office has no a/c so I am working from home for a couple of weeks. Not that my house has a/c either, but at least there is a breeze, fans, and windows.

Anyhoodle, my day:

08:00 – la la la, working with no pants. RAMPANT PANTLESSNESS!

08:05 – Nope. sticking to chair. rancid pantlessness! find leggings, put on leggings. back to emailing.

08:43 – need a bra, felt weird to email clients sans bra.

09:03 – Piper comes barreling into the house like her ass was on fire, immediately drops and scoots her butt on the tile floor before running and scooting again. I get to pull a blade of grass out of her butt before sterilizing the aforementioned scooted-upon areas. My life, all glamour.

10:00 – begin viewing a pre-recorded webinar. Holy sweet mother of fall-protection hell, this is not good. It is presented in literal monotone. the horror!

10:19 – dryer buzzes, I pause horrible webinar with tears of gratitude and for the first time in my life, I am excited to fold laundry.

10:30 – back to webinar….ooh, but this is distracting, it turns out that all five (fucking) dogs can attempt to fit under my home office desk. I say attempt, it didn’t go well. *sigh*

emails, reports, letters, laundry moving, phone calls, blah blah blah……

15:00 – huh, just saw Ziesa running past the window at full speed (for her, she is not so speedy)…..how odd? wait! there she goes again! aww, she’s hunting lizards. I mean, not well, but good for her for trying!

16:30 – day is done. woohoo! the commute isn’t too bad, but the damn dryer doesn’t seem to respect being “off the clock”.

Humphrey’s Hugs

NB: it is very hard to write with a Humphrey on top of me. 

so challenging in fact that I hit publish before I wrote my thoughts. *sigh* 

So, one of the reasons Dobby is such a satisfying dog to showcase as a rehabilitated dog is because the transformation is so very visible. He went from nasty nekkid mole rat to handsome beefcake relatively quickly. 

But how do you visually show the changes in a dog who basically looks the same? Answer: you can’t. 

Humphrey, the largest of our idiots, is technically my husband’s dog because when he saw a picture of this dog he literally said, “I love him, his name is Humphrey and I shall love him forever.” and that is how Humphrey was named and adopted. 

Humphrey was quite literally a pet project of a woman who has now become incredibly valuable to the animal welfare of this island. She moved into a home and Humphrey lived, a classic case of neglect, tied to the fence at the edge of her property. Her & her husband befriended this dog, feeding him and giving him attention to the point of building him a shelter, and the husband walking him. It is my belief that these interactions were Humphrey’s first introduction to affection and he was (and is) a fan. I have some opinions about hugging dogs that can be simplified into “generally do not,” but Humphrey seems to actively seek them out. When I thought about it for a while, it made sense to me. His first FoodLady provided him with affection, food, and attention and probably hugged him. This poor dog, never having been well-socialized with other dogs and appeared to have been tied up and ignored by humans until his first FoodLady moved in next door, learned that hugs were how you show love. 

Anywhoodle, Humphrey was a mess and to be honest, still is and always will be. He was found running loose and taken to the animal shelter, and when no-one claimed him, his first FoodLady contacted me and asked if I would take him in. I showed my (now) husband his photo and the rest is history. 

Mr. Humphrey’s progress includes: 

  • was heartworm positive; now officially negative! woohooo!
  • has a lot of broken teeth (his first and only toy was the chain that attached him to the fence); still has broken teeth but is not in any pain and it is next on the vet list once I get the care credit card paid down
  • He is very healthy. 
  • He had no leash manners and was strong enough for that to make walking him very hard; he is still not perfect on a leash, but is better. He knows how to chase tennis balls and now plays joyously with the other dogs daily. Watching him run is just beautiful. 

He is a very sensitive dog and when I have been sick or sad, he hasn’t left my side. Had Humphrey been raised in a loving environment where he lived with his mother and littermates until 12 – 16 months with appropriate human socialization included and then adopted into a home where he learned how to interact with his human pack and given appropriate training? he could have been devastatingly amazing. He’s unique and he’s loved; but his lost potential will always make me a little sad. 

All these positive changes have been internal. When he arrived here he was a large, healthy-looking apricot-colored canine. He is still a large, healthy-looking apricot colored canine. 

He will always have his limitations. He cannot be around cats, he will hunt them.  He gets too caught up in pack excitement too quickly and ends up nipping humans in response leading to bruising on one occasion, but if he meets new humans by himself – they are all his newest bestest friends. 

He’s never going to be perfect, but who is? Not me. 

Love y’all,

FoodLady

    FoodLady Chronicles – yeah, yeah, okay. 

    Dear Dobby, there is no other way to say it – you’re an asshole. You may have notice the two humans you live with occasionally saying, “we get it now, we know why you were left on the side of the road.” That is because we have developed an intricate backstory for you where you’ve lived in about 7 different homes and all of them start out taking care of this sweet little dog who just needs food and love and then fast forward 7 months and the people are pacing while pulling their hair out before freaking out and driving you back to where I found you. You feel great and have ALL the energy in the world – I’m thrilled. Let me detail your current assholery:

    1.  toilet paper is not food. We only have ONE roll left, if you steal and eat that I am wiping with you. 
    2. your sisters (Ziesa & Piper) are not your personal chew toys. 
    3. Not all straps are evil and must be destroyed. Straps attached to items such as shoes, bags, furniture, etc. are there ON PURPOSE – they are not evil. 
    4. My bras are not yours to chew and destroy despite being made of mostly straps. Bras are also not to steal and run with into the yard (why does this keep happening to me)?
    5. Neither of your brothers (Sam & Humphrey) want you to crawl into their mouths and when they tell you to stop you should maybe not make screeching noises like they are killing you – I’m watching, they didn’t touch you. You appear to be extremely passive aggressive, which is weird in a dog. 
    6. This confidence (assholeishness) you show at home – could you perhaps save some of that for the outside world? I know everything is scary and I am trying to take things slowly, but I promise everything is not out to get you. 

    Love, FoodLady!

    So, Dobby’s doing well, healthy, happy, etc. No, we are not getting rid of him, I just like bitching every once in a while. I don’t know if the shelter judged him a bit older than he was or if he is finally going through a delayed adolescence due to early starvation – doesn’t matter, he is full on embracing his “adolescent asshole” stage. 

    I love the little monster. 

    In other news on Monday morning the (not nice)neighbors’ (probably nice but has issues)dog was heading South down the road. I’m not proud that for half a second I thought about calling the police, but I made the better-person decision to herd the barky fuzzy-butt back into his yard to keep him from getting run over. Fuzzy-butt is/was fear-reactive so he was super pissed (from a distance) as I moved him towards his yard just by talking and walking towards him. His human came out a bit shocked as she said she didn’t even realize he was outside. I just nodded and waved goodbye while thinking, “Yeah, it sucks when that happens, doesn’t it?”

    All’s well that ends well.  ❤

    Neighbors – the good kind! 

    So, this afternoon my phone gets all feisty and says I have messages, well la-dee-dah, aren’t I fancy?! I received a voicemail and a text from my new(ish) neighbor with whom I have enjoyed random over-fence dog chats. He was calling to say there was a dog laying outside my gate and could one of mine have gotten loose? My first thought was (obviously), “shit….how did they get through concrete?!” because they were locked in the house. Then he described the dog and I said, “shit….another stray.” My freaking yard apparently grows “dog-nip” because a ridiculous number of strays end up here. The most memorable was when Life, Teak, Freckles (aww, I miss them) and I woke up to find a very large Rottweiler with infected eyes and a broken chain hanging out in our kitchen. We were all a bit surprised at first, but he turned out to be a sweetheart. I wish I could rehabilitate, train and re-home all of the poor little lost souls but no one person can do it all. 

    That said, the never-ending battle of dog rescue is not what this post is about – neighborly consideration and LOVE, that’s what this post is about. Y’all, my heart about melted. A dog was outside my gate and my neighbor called me to let me know, that it turned out not to be one of my (beloved) assholes is irrelevant because if it had been one of mine I could have gotten home and fixed the problem. It was just a beautiful moment in stark contrast to what I’ve dealt with in the past with the other neighbors, ya know, the police-calling-try-to-kill-my-dog ones that I was just thrilled. So thrilled I wrote a card and left it with a 16oz bag of ZiwiPeak dog food (great dog treats! and yes, they have dogs!)

    Not only did said neighbor care enough to call me, a friend of his is keeping the stray safe while trying to find her owner. Here is the pretty lost girl. 

    FoodLady Chronicles – Dear Dobby

    FoodLady Chronicles – Dear Dobby Edition: Dear Dobby, yes, it’s true. You are indeed the destroyer of all things; or as I said in laughing frustration while standing in front of wreckage, “I now know *why* you were left on the side of the road Mr. Stinky!!!” Additionally, you were once a very stoic boy. When we found you, you were an infected mess of pain and starvation and yet, still just so happy. That stoicism has left you and you have embraced the way of, “owwie, owwie, owwie, LADY! my foot was stung by some damn caribbean death insect and I’m OBVIOUSLY DYING! I may NEVER walk again! *dramatically flopping onto the ground holding up one paw* (he was fine) or No! don’t trim my nails! I may NEVER walk again! (he was fine) or Is the food ALL the way over there?! I may NEVER walk again! (he was fine).”  The rough tough little 16lb stinky, infected, furless mess of puppy – stoic & brave. The 60lb healthy muscular beefcake of a boxerbull – total mamma’s boy. I wouldn’t have you any other way little dude. 

    Love, FoodLady. 

    Most of y’all probably do not remember Freckles, but the house of FoodLady had to institute what was known as the “Freckles Protocol” prior to leaving. The FP can be boiled down to, “is there anything expensive or electronic within potential reach of a Freckles? no? okay, we can leave.” While Dobby does enjoy the destruction of expensive items as well as the piquant tang of chewing into electronics, his true joy comes in the removal of tags, seams, and tassles – preferably from expensive items. Perfect example, to keep him occupied while I write this, he has deigned to begin the removal of tassels from an old towel. His demolition work is just never done and this morning I am being serenaded by, “nibble, nibble, nibble, riiiiip; nibble, nibble, nibble, riiiiiip…” 

    He is Dobby the Happy Asshole, Destroyer of Possessions and Mighty Master of Derp; he is beloved. 

    Please enjoy this video of Dobby Nibbles