FoodLady Chronicles – Ha! Thumbs Win edition: Dear Herbert, today, despite your savant-esque ability to find and wiggle through any weakness of the fence, I have won. Thanks to 1/4″ rebar, wire ties, and the gosh-darn-cutest widdle swedgehammer (now named Bashkins) I have closed your current escape routes. Watching your face get all frustrated when you couldn’t chase (aka make best friends with and then try to convince to move into FoodLady’s house) that stray dog this evening was thanks enough, no other thanks is needed. smooches
-FoodLady

FoodLady Chronicles – Ha! Thumbs Win edition: Dear Herbert, today, despite your savant-esque ability to find and wiggle through any weakness of the fence, I have won. Thanks to 1/4″ rebar, wire ties, and the gosh-darn-cutest widdle swedgehammer (now named Bashkins) I have closed your current escape routes. Watching your face get all frustrated when you couldn’t chase (aka make best friends with and then try to convince to move into FoodLady’s house) that stray dog this evening was thanks enough, no other thanks is needed. smooches!!!!
-FoodLady.

FoodLady Chronicles – Gertrude-kitty edition: Dear Gertrude, I appreciate your weirdness and fully support your originality. However, just to keep you updated, it is super creepy to see you run around the front yard at full speed as if the hounds of hell are after you when the only thing that appears to be chasing you is, sadly, your tail. It. Is. Attached. To. You. In case you were wondering that is why it hurts when you attack it.
Love, FoodLady

FoodLady Chronicles – not packing edition:
Dear panicked dogs, please stop hovering around, occasionally whining mournfully, and giving me the woe-is-me eyeballs. I’m not packing to go anywhere; I am cleaning out my closet. Completely different thing.
I swear. No, I’m really not going anywhere….*sigh*
Never mind, continue the over emotional display….*sigh*

FoodLady Chronicles – I barfed edition:
So. There I was, about to flop onto my bed. I was yammering on about something in my singsong happy FoodLady voice and Life (dog, not concept) was AhWooing along happily and Herbert (definitely not a concept) was trying to lick her face clean or kissing her or whatever it is those two get up to…not my ‘bidness. Anywhoodle, mid bed flop a bug…an unspecified and assuredly dead by now bug flew into my mouth. And not just in the lipular or toothular area either! Nope, that sucker basically danced a tango with my uvula (the hangy thing in the back of a human’s throat ya perverts). Now, I reacted to this calmly by delicately horking into the garbage can (like a lady). All would have been fine except my gacking made noises which triggered Super Herbert (trademark pending)! While Super Herbert (trademark pending)! sounds impressive he is, in fact, a hilarious pain in the ass.
Scene:
Me: *horking into trash* (delicately and like. a. lady.)
Super Herbert (trademark pending)!
*brings bottle of meds.*
Didn’t work. Hmmmm.
*brings glucose kit*
Didn’t work. Hmmmm.
*brings garlic salt*
Didn’t work. Hmmmm.
*brings duck toy*
Didn’t work. Hmmmm.
*brings empty doritos bag*
At this point I’m cracking up and he flops down, his self appointed mission accomplished. You win this round Super Herbert (trademark pending)!

FoodLady Chronicles – not packing edition:
Dear panicked dogs, please stop hovering around, occasionally whining mournfully, and giving me the woe-is-me eyeballs. I’m not packing to go anywhere; I am cleaning out my closet. Completely different thing.
I swear. No, I’m really not going anywhere….*sigh*
Never mind, continue the over emotional display….*sigh*

FoodLady Chronicles – Teak, you are a pain in my ass edition:
Dear Teak (aka Doodle), when I am in the bathroom there. is. no. toast. In fact, there has never been any food of any kind in the bathroom. Having you begin the dreaded cacophony by whining and work up to frantically barking because you don’t want to walk past Life (dog, not concept) IS NOT RELAXING. So, next time you go outside to go to the bathroom I am going to follow you and say, “BARK BARK BARK BARK!” and see if you find it disturbing in any way.
Love, FoodLady
Dear Neighbors, if you see me outside barking at an elderly black dog please note it is not yet a psychotic break. Please don’t be concerned.
Love, FoodLady

FoodLady Chronicles – Teak, you are a pain in my ass edition:
Dear Teak (aka Doodle), when I am in the bathroom there. is. no. toast. In fact, there has never been any food of any kind in the bathroom. Having you begin the dreaded cacophony by whining and work up to frantically barking because you don’t want to walk past Life (dog, not concept) IS NOT RELAXING. So, next time you go outside to go to the bathroom I am going to follow you and say, “BARK BARK BARK BARK!” and see if you find it disturbing in any way.
Love, FoodLady
Dear Neighbors, if you see me outside barking at an elderly black dog please note it is not yet a psychotic break. Please don’t be concerned.
Love, FoodLady

FoodLady Chronicles – Home Edition: I’m home. It is so beautiful out. 82 and breezy. Gertrude the cat is rubbing against me but won’t let me cuddle her (cat logic), Life has happily snagged a coconut in celebration of FoodLady’s return, Teak barked at me for 15 minutes and has now settled down to grump quietly, and Herbert? Well Herbert is running in joyous circles in the front yard kicking his puppy heels up in joy of warm with a squeaky ball in his mouth.

: Dear Herbert, I understand squirrels are gosh darn the MOST exciting things to have ever happened to you and those wily little bastards taunt the crap out of you from the safety of their trees. That said, that fuzzy zippy hoppy thing that zoomed in front of you and disappeared despite your impressive chase did not, in fact, disappear up a tree. That was a fuzzy prey beastie called a bunny and/or rabbit. Bunny rabbits don’t climb trees and Herbert, dude, they are making you look *really* dumb. I can’t think of any way to explain to you in dog that the rabbits are not in the trees, but deep down I know this is just a squirrel conspiracy to make my dog look dumb.
Love, FoodLady