11..., Blog + Dog, Lifestyle

11… Ways Tessa Changed My Life in 366 Days

Celebrating Tess’ Gotcha Day with a cookie and her sister. I’m embracing the chaos of my life as it is without trying to make it beautiful for Instagram or the blog. Having six dogs, four under a year, is messy, and I’m okay with that.

A year ago last Friday, I was headed to an event in Houston. Dressed up in heels and a skirt, I stopped traffic to herd a very pregnant dog to the side of the road. Ignoring the honking and middle fingers, I persuaded this sad, scared looking dog into the back of my car. I had no idea what the hell I was going to do with her or what I was going to tell Dylan, but in my soul, I knew she was mine. A vet trip, Amazon shopping, several pet store runs, and six days later, Tessa had a name, a home, and thirteen healthy puppies. And I was embarking on the longest year of my life.   

Today, Tessa is a 35 pound ball of energy, cuddles, and love. She may be the smallest being in the house—except for the bugs Texas insists upon—but she refuses to get lost in the fray or be pushed around. She was a good dog from the moment I gently plopped her in my backseat, but she has come so far. She’s healthy, happy, and goofy. She is obsessed with her sister, Beau. Intermittent wrestling with her four ginormous babies on her very specific terms between sun-naps and mama-snuggles is how she likes to spend her days. She’s sproingy and gentle. I could go on forever about how fabulous she is, but y’all would get bored, and I would never finish writing this because I would have to take many breaks to give her gratitude kisses. 

I cannot imagine my life pre-Tessa. That’s 100% a lie. I can absolutely imagine my life pre-Tessa. It was not lacking for anything, but my life is more complete because of her. 

A year and a week ago, I would have never been able to picture the way my life looks today. I wouldn’t be surprised because this past year is exactly something I could have seen myself doing, but I would not have planned it. I learned so much about myself from and because of Tessa. I learned my heart has no shortage of love to give and I am able to willingly give up everything I can for those I love and those who need me. I learned to draw boundaries and stand up for myself. I learned to take and ask for help. I am a better person because I stopped traffic for a desperate dog. I am a more tired person because I decided to keep that desperate dog. I am a happier, more blessed person because I embraced the challenges of keeping that desperate dog and four of her babies.  

They sure enjoyed that!

  Tess changed my life in far more than eleven ways. Without a doubt in my mind, she changed my life in ways I have yet to grasp. She is a blessing and a challenge. But she is mine, and I am hers.

  1. Financially—Oh goodness… I haven’t done the exact math on the amount of money that has been spent because Tessa found her forever home in my home. The least I can say is, bye-bye savings! Hello, debt. I made responsible choices, but the financial impact of taking on a heartworm positive, massively pregnant street dog was not small. Between her health and making sure the puppies were alive, healthy, and thriving, I will be feeling it for a good long while. I say this without complaint. But it is definitely a big life change that cannot go unnoted. I don’t think people realize the financial commitment it is to take on a street dog, let alone a pregnant one. She and the puppies—those I kept and those I did not—are worth every penny spent, knowing they are happy, healthy, and forever loved. 
  2. Worry—The amount I worried about Tessa while she was pregnant, while she was momming, and during her heartworm treatments has been all-consuming. I worry about her and her babies constantly. It’s the mama in me, I know. I just want them to be safe. 
  3. Sleep… What is that?—I think I am still catching up on all the sleep I lost while I was taking care of the puppies. Tessa had thirteen puppies and eight lactating nipples. Even after the puppies were weaned, they did not sleep through the night. It took months to get them into a rhythm. Even now, they are early birds… I am not. It’s a process. 
  4. Home Ownership—Buying a home was a process we had already started when I picked Tess up. Having her expedited the whole experience and dictated the houses we were looking at. Bigger became better in both square footage and yard size. I love my home, but it’s not the one I would have picked if I were still a one dog mom.
  5. Taking Breaks—2020 would have been a taxing year without raising a pack. It felt like the emotional and psychological Olympics. I all but signed off of social media, blogging, and doing everything but the bare minimum in my social, work, and personal life. I did not and still do not have the emotional bandwidth to take on a lot. As a perfectionist managing my workaholism, having to settle for done and not working has been hard. I have finally been able to accept the fact that all the dogs are alive and healthy can be enough. That taking breaks from life (outside of responsibilities) is acceptable and necessary and sometimes even the healthiest thing to do. I will get back to being my Type A, workaholic self, but until I can, I’m not going to beat myself up about it.
  6. Waking Up—I hate waking up. Tessa does not love lounging in bed past eight without getting up for breakfast and a potty break. Her preferred method of waking me up is by howling if she’s in her box or pouncing straight on my face if she’s sleeping in bed. Neither of which are my preferred method of waking up, so it’s an ongoing adjustment. 
  7. Cleaning—Cleaning has never been my favorite activity, but I am a neat freak. There’s a lot of letting go that happens when you have six dogs. Cleaning has not been one of them. Things are messier than they used to be, but I do not want my house to smell like dog. So I clean. I clean often. 
  8. Pack Discount—I have so many dogs, I get a pack discount at the vet. It’s something, and I’ll take it.
  9. Embracing The Casual—I am a casual person, but casual is not my style. I love to look great, and I love having a house that looks pristine. Ha! Ha ha ha ha ha! I have six dogs now, so casual has become the de facto. I live in sweatpants and tshirts. I have accepted my legs and arms will be covered in scratches from Tessa’s playful and attention seeking sproings. I sadly cover my beautiful couch with blankets so it will last. I have begrudgingly accepted the casualness of my new life. 
  10. Pants—Speaking of sweatpants… I never wore pants around the house until Tessa and the puppies. She loves to jump around and throw her paws. Little she may be; gentle she is not. To protect myself, I have made the ultimate sacrifice. Every morning as I get out of bed, with sadness in my heart, I submit to leg prisons. This is the meaning of a mother’s love.
  11. Love—The first night Tessa was in the house. I lay in bed listening to her breath. I was distraught with worry. I didn’t know if I could love another dog as much as I loved Beau. I was terrified Beau would feel less loved. I did not know if I had enough love to give Tessa and the puppies. I was an idiot. Love has been just about the only thing I have enough of. Love for them has given me the strength to lean on people, ask for help, accept my limitations, stand up for myself, set boundaries, and know when to say enough. As much as I love them, they have given it all back to me and so much more. Beau, Tess, Knight, Duke, Makeda, and Bear love me intensely. I have never felt more whole, more loved, more secure in the world than I do today. Tessa has changed so much of my life. So much of those changes have been challenging and heartbreaking, but it is completely worth it because of the love she and they give me every minute of every day. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for them. 

It’s hard to fathom a year has gone by. Feeling simultaneously short and long, I had no idea what was coming at me 366 (leap year) days ago. The moment Dylan and I decided to keep Tess and take on the challenge of raising puppies and finding them homes, I knew it would be an adventure. Oh boy, has it been an adventure. The adventure of my life. Tess was a life altering decision. One that I made without really thinking about it. All I knew was I had to save that desperate dog from being hit by a car. Here we are. 

bisous und обьятий,
RaeAnna + Tessa

Blog + Dog

The Struggle

Lately, I’ve been feeling like the struggle bus would drive right by me. 

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The Swarm

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The Swarm begins swarming with anticipation of food.

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The Swarm cannot wait. | Graphic Tee | Jeans | Watch | Earrings | Glasses | Belt | Puppy Food | Trough

I love the puppies more than life itself. They bring so much love and happiness into my life. There is more laughter and cuddles and smiles and playtime and kisses than I’ve had in years. Each and every one of them is unique with their own preciously perfect personality. They are a blessing. I don’t regret for a second the choice to bring Tess home or keep her knowing she was expecting thirteen puppies. They are joy and sunshine incarnate. 

The struggle is real. 

I cried in the rain on Sunday morning. Utterly defeated. I plead with thirteen itty-bitty puppies with tears streaming down my face trying to keep a smile in my voice asking them to be still for just two seconds. Of course, they didn’t listen. I was trying to bring them inside after they ate breakfast, when it started to rain suddenly. They’re so big, I can only carry four in a laundry basket up the stairs at a time without the risk of dropping their wiggly, squirming bodies. I had woken up at 4:45 when Tess nudged me awake to walk down the hall with her to check on her babies. They were content in a clean pen. I was up an hour later to thirteen puppies howling, covered in poop, with their sheets looking like Jackson Pollock showed up with a puppy poop inspiration. It was warm enough outside, I let them out into the backyard as the sun came up with their mama. It took me two hours to clean the sheets, pick up the puppy pads, sanitize, and re-set up. By 8:15 in the morning, I had gotten two and a half hours of sleep (not at once), cleaned, fed, and cried trying to not step on one, keep them out of the rain, and get them back into their upstairs room without waking up Amanda and her husband. 

Sunday was a bad day, but it is also the norm. 

All jokes aside, it really is a good thing they’re cute. If they were ugly demon-spawn, I don’t know if it would be worth it. 

Most nights, I get three hours of sleep, non-consecutive. If they don’t wake me up, Tess does. She may be their mama, but I’m her mama. Less than two months ago, she was living on the streets, pregnant, and alone. She doesn’t want to be alone anymore. She wants company wherever she goes, and she’s tired from nursing and taking care of thirteen puppies. I don’t blame her. She’s young and has had a really tough life; I’m her person now. I am running on empty. I am exhausted. Dylan can’t help because he’s at the apartment with Beau. Amanda and Andrew help, but they’ve already opened up their home to us; it’s not their responsibility. 

I’m at the vet’s office about once a week. I think we’re keeping them in business during COVID-19. Check up, dewclaw removal, puppy strangles, more check ups, and other things have made us regulars. Today, I had to take Tess because she suddenly developed hot spots around her neck under her collar. It was terrifying. I felt horrible. She’s so laid back, she didn’t even let me know she was hurting. Luckily, a week of twice-a-day antibiotics and steroids should clear it up, but we’ll know when we go to the vet [again] for a check up next Wednesday. 

Instead of having weeks to plan for one new dog or even puppies… I had five days. There was no money set aside for this. I’m a planner. I like to have a plan and savings and a contingency and more savings. That was not possible here. Luckily, Dylan and I are in a position to take on this responsibility financially and spatially, but it’s drained those accounts, and we’ve even put some on our credit card, which I hate to do. But it’s what we had to do because I was watching Oryol gasp for air, and a little debt was not going to stop me from saving his, Athena, and Knight’s lives. Tess has a lot of health issues to take care of once the puppies are weaned and she’s recovered. Thirteen puppies is a big litter, which means a bigger price tag. They’ve had health issues, which adds to that even more. Paying for vet bills, tests, x-rays, ultrasounds, emergency ER visits, steroids, antibiotics, vaccinations, etc. Not to mention the 36 puppy pads we go through, the two loads of laundry I do, the half can of puppy formula, the six pounds of dog food EVERY DAY. Plus teething toys, sheets, towels, fences, troughs, and all the miscellaneous items we’ve bought to make their lives easier. Amazon has limited the number of puppy pads we can buy because of coronavirus, so I’ve had to ask friends and family to send some to me because we need them. 

They’re big puppies. Now, they’re big enough to run, jump, and play. It’s so fun to run around with them and watch them hop like awkward deer. It also means a swarm. A swarm under foot and the risk of stepping on one and hurting them, which means I’m always barefoot. I can’t feel what’s under my feet in shoes, so I don’t wear them to know when I can put weight on my foot and when I can’t. A running swarm means they rush to any open door, person, or thing they want. It means I have to create barriers, which they’ll find a way passed. I have to let five puppies in while I get down on my hands and knees to push and hold them back so I can close the door so they don’t get hurt so I can take them upstairs so they can be safe without having the rest of the puppies loose to roam free pooping, peeing, and wreaking havoc on the ground floor. It’s amazing what can happen in a minute and a half. The swarm means getting frustrated to tears because I can’t put their food down without spilling it all over them and myself and wherever we are. The swarm means mountains of poop and pee. The swarm means never being able to keep up and keep track. The swarm means letting go of showering, organization, and folding laundry. The swarm means accepting the new stress wrinkles they’ve gifted me. The swarm means I have gotten very, very good at counting to thirteen (five times) because I’m terrified one will be forgotten. The swarm means when one starts howling, thirteen start howling… day or night. The swarm means I’m one step away from complete anarchy.

My life is so completely filled with love and happiness. That love and happiness comes with a price. I’m not complaining, but thirteen puppies is a lot of physical work and a huge financial responsibility. Instagram and cute pictures do not show the late nights, the tears, the frustrations, the isolation, the debt, or any of the other hard bits. Not to mention, I’m always finding poop on my clothes and skin. When I don’t have poop on me, there’s a phantom poo smell haunting the depths of my nostrils. They are absolutely wonderful, but it’s hard. It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, and I took care of a human baby for a long time. So don’t let Instagram fool you. My quaranteam is not bliss. It’s heaven if heaven were coated in poo, tears, and exhaustion. 

bisous und обьятий,
RaeAnna

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Blog + Dog, Lifestyle

Welcome to the Family

Welcome to the family Tess, Siren, March, Knight, Hardy, Duke, Nosky, Hera, Boudica, Makeda, Lily-May, Athena, Oryol, and Bear. 

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No this is not an April Fool’s prank. This is real life. Sorry I’ve been keeping it from you, but we wanted to find some equilibrium before announcing it to the world. Here is a cliff notes version of a much longer story. 

Exactly five weeks ago, I was driving to an event in Houston on a frontage road during rush hour when I saw a small and seemingly very pregnant dog on the side of the road. Nothing pulls on my heartstrings more than a homeless dog. I was driving too fast to stop. I quickly flipped around and stopped traffic in high heels and a skirt to make sure she made it across the road to safety. I knelt in a fallow field as people sped home to their families, holding out my hand, wishing I had dog treats in my car, crossing my fingers my car didn’t get hit all while looking at a very skittish dog, hoping she wouldn’t run away. It took thirty seconds before she picked up a mutilated bird wing and dropped it at my feet. My heart broke as I touched her head for the first time. A minute later, I took a calculated risk by picking her up. Instead of biting me or struggling to get free, her body relaxed into mine as I carried her across the field to place her in the back seat of my car. She immediately curled up and let out the biggest sigh. 

Once I was back on the highway, I called Dylan. “Hi, honey. I have a dog in the car.” “I didn’t know you took Beau with you.” I paused, “It’s a different dog, and she’s pregnant.” He paused for even longer, “Oh. Well. Okay. I’ll be home soon, and we’ll talk.” Then I called my bestie, Kelsey, and asked, “What the fuck did I just do.”

Before I brought this new and unknown dog into the house, I put Beau in her box to make sure both would be safe and quarantined. It took ten minutes to bring the new dog through the front door. She was scared and didn’t know what a doorway was. I didn’t want to push her or make her feel uncomfortable, so I sat down, petting her head until she walked far enough in so I could shut the door. I laid a blanket down for her with a bowl of water and food. She drank two full bowls of water and nibbled on the dog food before she laid down and closed her eyes. Her belly was huge. Her nipples were about to burst. I could see the movement of tiny puppies in her stomach. My family had a litter of puppies when I was fourteen, so I knew the signs and what to look for. We had maybe a week before the puppies would arrive. 

Dylan walked through the door and made eye contact with the cutest stray you ever did see. I saw his heart melt. We talked for a long time about keeping her or contacting a rescue. Taking on a stray is a big commitment. Taking on a pregnant stray is a HUGE commitment. I knew she would be ours in the field, but I didn’t want to push Dylan into that decision if he wasn’t comfortable with it. 

That night we [I] gave her the name Tess. We decided to lengthen it to Tessa because Dylan likes that a little better. Her name comes from the titular character in Tess of the D’Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy. The plot mimics Tessa’s own story, in a way, but with a happier ending. We gave her a bath, fed her, and loved on her.

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A call to the vet happened immediately the next morning. We kept hoping she would be microchipped by a home with someone desperately searching for her. No such luck. Dylan and I knew at that moment, we had a second dog. We spent three hours at the vet running a full panel of tests, x-rays, blood work, ultrasounds, and more to make sure Tess and the babies were healthy as can be and, at least, not contagious before we brought her home to Beau. After a once over, we found out Tess is maybe a year old.  The vet came in with the results from all the tests, and it wasn’t all great news. Honestly, it was mostly bad news. Tess had hookworms and tapeworms. We put her on pregnancy safe dewormers to take care of that problem. As expected in a street dog, she has heartworms. We won’t be able to treat that until she has weaned the babies, but she is on heartworm prevention to keep it from getting worse. That will be a process to take care over the next year. Then, the vet told us we were expecting THIRTEEN puppies. Tess isn’t very big. She weighed 52 pounds pregnant. I didn’t think she could fit more than eight babies in her tummy. The vet pulled out the x-ray saying, “Here is where the pellet is.” My brain didn’t register it at first. My dog. My pregnant dog had been shot in the spine. I don’t understand. I can’t understand it. It makes me want to cry thinking about it. I was trying to register and process that this small, young, helpless dog was full of fleas, worms, heartworms, a pellet, and thirteen babies. Other than that, she was healthy, and sweet. The vet prepared us to only have nine puppies survive because of the amount of puppies in the litter and the fact she had been living on the street for probably ever. Oh, and the puppies could arrive any time between now and a week. Hurry, hurry, hurry. 

Tess looked at me with the most soulful eyes and the biggest, pointy ears, and I knew we would do everything in our power to make her happy and healthy. 

After paying a small fortune at the vet, we took her home and made her comfortable. Then we headed to Petsmart where we spent another small fortune to get puppy formula, crate, blankets, collar, leash, dog food, dog bowls, puppy pads, bottles, flea collars, flea baths, flea bombs, puppy shampoo, and more. We bought a kiddy pool for Tess to whelp in, syringes, thermometers, and more at Target. Then we hopped on Amazon to order towels, blankets, bleach, sheets, and more. Normally, people have two months to prepare and spread out the cost of puppies before they arrive. Not only did we not have days, we also had to get everything for our new dog. Those first eighteen hours were very, VERY expensive . 

What made this whole thing harder was the fact I had to leave town two days later. Dylan had never whelped puppies. I had, but I had agreed to watch my cousin in New Orleans a year prior to this. I couldn’t back out. Dylan had to work that weekend, and he was stressed out of his mind trying to be a prepared doggy daddy. We tried to board Tess at a 24 hour vet office to make sure she was taken care of while Dylan was at work. That ended up being a complete nightmare, I will talk about that more in another blog post. Instead, we bought cameras to watch Tess in the puppy room and relied on my best friend, Amanda, to come over and lend a hand. I headed to New Orleans, hoping Tess would wait a week to have the puppies. In the meantime, I watched the cameras like a crazy person. 

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Makeda and Me

Five days after I brought Tess home, she went into labor. Fourteen hours later, Siren, the first puppy, arrived at 3:45 in the afternoon. It took seventeen hours for all thirteen puppies to arrive. My best friend, Amanda, came and helped. I was on Skype, as Overwatch, the entire time, letting them know when a puppy was coming and what to do when they needed help. We almost lost Tess between puppy ten and eleven, but she made it through. The three of us were up all night; it was exhausting and stressful. Dylan and Amanda were absolute champs. With every squeaking puppy, we let out excited cries. All thirteen puppies survived. 

At two weeks old, we had a huge scare. Oryol, Athena, and Knight’s necks started to harden and swell very quickly. The swelling started at their necks and worked towards their faces, closing their eyes. It looked bad, but what was even worse was the swelling was cutting off their air supply making them wheeze and cough for air. We loaded Tess and all thirteen puppies into the car with blankets and pillows to head to the Blue Pearl Vet in Spring, a 24 hour animal ER, at 8:45 at night. We were prepared to stay as long as we had to with credit cards in hand willing to pay whatever price we needed to. All the puppies came with because the swelling came on so suddenly, I couldn’t bear to leave the puppies at home and risk another one getting sick. The Coronavirus hysteria had started, so we weren’t able to go inside with our three sick puppies. The vet was baffled by the case. They went on a regimen of steroids and broad spectrum antibiotics to take care of anything it could be because it would be days before pathology could confirm if it was viral, bacterial, or autoimmune. We were hoping it was an autoimmune disease; the other options meant a possibility of losing the entire litter and even Tess. After pathology and all sorts of other small fortunes were spent, we found out it was a wildly atypical case of the rare autoimmune disease: Puppy Strangles. It doesn’t occur in puppies younger than three weeks, which is why it was such a rare case. The fact three puppies had it at the same time in the space of an hour made it even more uncommon. Normally, it is not lethal, but because they were so small, had we waited much longer they would have strangled to death. They’re still on steroids, but they’re doing great and should be off them in a week!

Coronavirus sucks. Honestly, it couldn’t have come at a better time for me, though. I was supposed to go on a three week trip to Europe, which was cancelled because of the pandemic. Also because of the pandemic, work has been very slow, and Dylan and I are stuck at home with the puppies all day. It’s an amazing way to spend our quarantine, and I’m not in Europe missing out on this preciously short time. 

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Dillies and Bear

Tess is the sweetest dog you ever did meet. Beau and her love each other. They are becoming the best of friends, taking on the other’s habits and falling asleep snuggling. Tess is becoming exhausted and drained from all the nursing, but she is doing an amazing job. Thirteen teething puppies with only eight functional nipples does not make for a happy mama. I can’t imagine what she’s going through, but we’re loving her fiercely through it all. Beau is obsessed with the puppies. Whenever they squeak, Beau runs in to check on them. Tess sees Beau taking care of things and lays back down. They’re coparenting, and it makes my heart so happy. Beau is torn between being enamored and terrified of the puppies. She wants to play with them so badly, and they’re now old enough they have started to play back. 

My thirteen poop factories keep me busy doing laundry. And I mean a LOT of laundry. I’m a laundry goddess. They are the cutest things in the whole world, which makes it all worthwhile. 

Last week, at three weeks old, my bestie, Jenn, took family pictures. We wanted to capture all thirteen babies, Tess, Beau, Dylan, and I before they’re zooming all over the place in complete and utter chaos. They turned out so cute. I will treasure them forever. 

They’re officially one month old today. It’s an amazing age. They are walking and talking and playing. They mimic Beau’s boxerish play tactics. A herd of puppies run to me whenever I get near. I spend all day cuddling them when I’m not cleaning up. They are perfect and delightful and too good for this world. 

The only reason I knew I could bring a heavily pregnant dog home off the side of the street was because Dylan would have done the exact same thing. When we started dating, he knew this was the kind of person I am, and he signed on anyways. He had been pushing to get a second dog for the last two years. I have been very resistant to it because dogs are a lot of work and a lot of money. I love them to death, but it is hard to travel with one dog let alone two. The Monday before Tess came home, I had told Dylan we were absolutely NOT bringing a second dog into the house. By Wednesday we had two. A week and a half later, we had fifteen dogs. I guess I was wrong. I couldn’t be happier about our circus. 

bisous und обьятий,
RaeAnna, Dylan, Beau, Tess, Siren, March,
Knight, Hardy, Duke, Nosky, Hera, Boudica,
Makeda, Lily-May, Athena, Oryol, and Bear