FoodLady Chronicles- yeah….things. edition:

So things have been bad, I feel crappy whining about things because they are really more “first world problem” bad than truly bad.
Example? I am without a car. My old taurus has officially died the death of oh dead dead which means I have been walking to work. Herbert (service dog) thinks this WAY better than driving and it is only about a mile. Yes, this sucks, and yes, it sucks trying to do things like “buy food”, but really…things could be worse.
For example, it would have been worse if last night when I got home from work the two dogs at home could have gotten into the trash, destroyed a pillow, disassembled the couch, and begun gnawing on the arm of the couch which was *just* paid off. (I wasn’t worried about the new couch because it is made of METAL)
oh wait, that *wasn’t* a bad dream, that actually happened.
*whimper*

FoodLady Chronicles – heard this morning edition:

Everyone has their own language with their loved ones. Thankfully there were no other humans around to hear my conversation with the dogs this morning because in reflection, I may have sounded a wee bit macabre:
*FoodLady leaves bedroom, sees Sam in hallway*, “Sam, where did you get that trachea?! I didn’t give you a trachea……Herbert!?! you have a trachea as well!? I see….so we raided the treat box. Mia, no….you can’t steal Herbert’s trachea–he’ll kill you…….here, here *grabs bully stick from box*….have a penis. Okay, fine….Sam, have the penis. Mia, here is a trachea.”
*happy peaceful canine munching sounds*
*FoodLady walks past bathroom, sees another stolen trachea carefully half hidden under a towel and bellows*, “Herbert! we do not hide stolen trachea in the bathroom!” *picks up trachea and stomps around looking for more stolen bovine anatomy.*
Good morning from the anatomy thieving fuzzy-butts.