Mom guilt is a real thing. I suffer from an acute case of dog mom guilt. Particularly when it comes to my original love: Beau.
She is so beautiful
I adopted Beau six years ago. So she spent more than three years living her best life as the sole proprietor of double-income parents. Then her mom—that would be me—had to go fuck shit up for her by bringing home a very pregnant tiny tot of a dog, and by tiny, I mean, Tessa is 35 pounds.
Poor Beau. Her home had been invaded, and now, she is the proud matriarch of five underlings. She does love the fear she strikes into all their hearts. She also loves having built in playmates to torture. I will never know how my eight year old dog runs the shit out of four three-year-olds. She is aging well.
I realized last week, Beau is in fact aging. My once energizer bunny who would zoomy all across the beach and any free space, preferred sitting on the beach, watching Mommy and a friend play in the water. She ran around, digging and playing, but she was calmer and far better behaved than she’s ever been in her entire life. As proud as I am, I hate it. She’s getting older. She’s far from old, but her age is starting to show. She used to bound into the ocean, sticking her entire head under water. She would dig a huge hole and roll around in it. She would leap to catch sand, yes sand, in her mouth. She would run as the waves came in and chase them out again. When I would run out into the ocean, Beau would be on my heels. At one point, I was standing a ways out, about knee deep, for ten minutes or so. Eventually, Beau decided I’d had enough deep water time, so she swam out, poked me with her nose, and made it clear I was to come back to the safety of the shore.
The mom guilt comes in because, well, it’s always there about everything. Yet, I hadn’t taken Beau to the beach since before the pandemic. She loves it there so much, and I forgot to make time. Three years is such a long time in a dog’s life, and I deprived her of a great love for three years all because I forgot to make time.
There is no one more precious in all the world.
What in the actual fuck, RaeAnna?!
I am an absolute failure of mother. Absolute might be a bit extreme. They’re loved, healthy, sheltered, and well-fed. Feeding my girl’s soul? That’s also important, and I forgot. I’ve forgotten to feed my own, but that’s my fault. Beau doesn’t have a voice or a choice. It’s my privilege to make her life the best it can be. Pre-pandemic, pre-puppies, Beau was on the go 24/7 as we traveled the country together. She has lived an adventurous life, but her life got small in the last three years, and that’s on me.
So I’m going to do better by Beau and all the others. Unfortunately, Beau has less time. It’s the reality of dogs’ lives, but it’s the reality of her being the oldest. The days are ticking. They always have been. Going to the beach last week reminded me just how precious every single moment with her and her siblings is.
A family picture of all thirteen babies and their two mamas at three weeks old!
Happy Birthday Siren, Vienna, Knight, Marcus, Duke, Joey, Hera, Lucy, Makeda, Sadie, Teena, Murphy, and Bear! Being your first human mama was the most rewarding challenge I have ever been crazy enough to dive into.
After bringing home a very pregnant, street dog on February 26, 2020, Tessa went into labor five days later on March 2. Which means, a year ago, thirteen puppies were born in an epically long labor that lasted 38.5 hours with seventeen hours and one minute between the first and last born. Every single one of the thirteen is healthy, happy, and living their best life today.
What a year it has been.
I was a bit protective of my babies. I didn’t want them to go to their furever homes ever, but that was not an option—I couldn’t afford fifteen dogs, nor did I have the space. I sent them to their wonderful furever homes at three months old because I was able to ensure they were vaccinated, were well socialized, avoided the critical time when they could develop neurosis and fears, learned ample skills from their mama, and I was able to catch and solve some health issues. Puppies are adorable, and I loved every single second of my time with them, but those first three months was a massive struggle in every way. I look back and wonder how I did it. The answer: love and support from my closest friends and family. Neither I nor the puppies would have made it through without those heroes in our lives. Having thirteen puppies and a brand new mama dog was taxing in more ways than I can even describe, but I won’t even try because this is a birthday celebration.
What was even harder than getting through those three months: Watching them go to their new homes. I felt so empty when they were gone. (Even though I still had four puppies, Tessa, and Beau, pieces of my heart were missing.) Knowing each puppy was in the very best home for them made it much easier to say goodbye. Every single parent sends me updates, so I have gotten to watch them grow, becoming more themselves in the comfort of a loving home. I was the puppy matchmaker; I gave the puppy to the perfect home for them and a puppy suited to the home each family could provide. Some of the puppy parents have become good friends or were already good friends. Several have stayed for a night or a few when their parents go on vacation or work trips. Puppy play dates happen. They may not be my babies anymore, but they are still in my life. I am so blessed to have found so many wonderful homes for my amazing puppies.
From left top clockwise: Knight, Duke, Makeda, and Bear. The four babies who are mine forever.
Every day, all day for three months, I was surrounded by thirteen puppies and Tessa. Three months is a short amount of time, but it is a lifetime when you’re watching beings evolve and grow and become themselves. Each one had a unique personality from the moment they were born. Being around them brought me so much joy and filled my heart with love. I was so completely in love with each one. It was impossible to name a favorite, and to this day, the ones I kept are here because a) I wanted to make sure they received the medical care they needed b) their personalities were best suited to Beau and Tessa. I didn’t keep my favorite puppies because I didn’t have any. They were all perfect and still are.
The fact it has been one year since they were born… Is shocking. Where has the time gone? I have watched my four grow into these amazing dogs with huge, unique personalities and needs. Life has been busy and complicated and stressful at times, but I wouldn’t trade anything in the world for my dogs. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for my four puppies and the nine others. My heart is theirs. For now and forever.
A year ago, I was given a beautiful opportunity to give fourteen dogs a chance at life, and they are making the most of those lives every day.
Before they went to their furever homes, I took pictures with each of them. They gave me hope and happiness during an incredibly difficult pandemic. There’s no way I wouldn’t remember each one, but I wanted something beautiful to look at as the years fade the memories. I want to share them with you and a little bit about each one.
Siren, the first born.
Siren was born on March 3, 2020 at 3:45 pm, weighing 8.75 ounces. He was adorable and such a sweetheart. He loved to howl and let out an incredibly high pitched noise anytime he wasn’t playing. Rough housing was his favorite activity but I could always count on big kisses from him. He kept his name Siren and lives in Houston.
(March) Vienna gave the best kisses!
March was born on March 3, 2020 at 4:50 pm, weighing 11.3 ounces. Named for the March sisters in Little Women. She has a goofy dew claw with two nails. She was always up to play but never dove right into the middle of the pack. Cuddling was just as much appreciated as play. Her daddy claimed her right away and named her Vienna—after the sausages because they looked like fuzzy, brown sausages. She lives in Cedar Rapids, Iowa.
Lucky enough to call Knight mine forever.
Knight was born on March 3, 2020 at 5:35 pm, weighing the least at 7.5 ounces. He gave me so much anxiety from the start because he was so little and refused to gain weight. Sass has never been something he lacks. He still suffers from little man syndrome and hates being pushed around even though he is the second biggest in my house and in the litter. I kept him because we bonded over the ten daily feedings we had, his autoimmune disorder, and his deformed front legs. He still has the name Knight, but I pronounce it phonetically, to his father’s dismay. K-Nig-Hit is cuddly beyond belief.
(Hardy) Marcus has been using his soulful eyes since day one.
Hardy was born on March 3, 2020 at 7:15 pm, weighing 7.62 ounces. Named for one of my favorite authors, Thomas Hardy. I’ve never seen such soulful eyes, and he uses them often on his dad. He was equal parts rowdy and lazy. He was always one of the first to curl up in my lap or behind my back. He always had such long legs; there’s no doubt he could be a supermodel. Instead he’s assumed the name Marcus (as in Aurelius) and lives in the lap of luxury in Houston with his dad. Doggy daycare is his jam.
Derpy Duke was never meant to stay, but stay he did, and I couldn’t be happier.
Duke was born March 3, 2020 at 9:00pm, weighing 9.21 ounces. He was a big derpy goofball from the moment he was born. Chewing has been his favorite thing since they got teething toys at two weeks old. To this day, he has a toy or shoe (yikes) in his mouth. If there is a free lap or hand he will claim it. If there’s no free lap or hand, he will still claim it. At eight months old, he had dental surgery to correct his severe overbite, which gives him the derpiest smile on earth. He’s my forever baby. It was a happy accident.
(Nosky) Joey was an adorably cuddly handful.
Nosky was born on March 3, 2020 at 9:05 pm, weighing 8.57 ounces. He has four white paws, so I named him “socks” in Russian. He had, and still does, a predilection for starting squabbles. He loved to antagonize and then walk away. It was irritating and funny; I’m certain he enjoyed his practical jokes. I was incredibly stressed out at eight weeks because he developed a joint problem, luckily his forever mama is on top of it. He’s living the best life and is incredibly spoiled. He is now named after Joey from friends and lives in Pearland, Texas.
Hera’s looking away from the camera as I get kisses from her forever sister!
Hera was born on March 3, 2020 at 9:55 pm, weighing 10.12 ounces. She was the first to crawl into a lap. She could never get enough of those cuddles, although she was happy to get her play on whenever a tussle started. She was quiet, sweet, and an all around easy puppy. Today, she still goes by Hera and lives in Ames, Iowa with my parents, so she’s got a pretty cushy life with her sister, Teena and brother, Barney.
(Boudica) Lucy has the cutest dots on her nose!
Boudica was born on March 3, 2020 at 11:13 pm, weighing 10.2 ounces. Named for Boudica the 60 ad Iceni queen. From the very start, she didn’t live up to the warrior queen she was named for. She stayed far away from any romp, preferring cuddles to literally anything else. She was skittish and shy, which only made me love her more. With adorable dots on her nose, she is gorgeous, perfect, and ridiculously easy to take a nap with. Her new name is Lucy, and she lives with her feline sister, Juniper, in Lincoln, Nebraska.
(Star) Makeda is still joy incarnate.
Star was born on March 4, 2020 at 12:10 am, weighing 9.63 ounces. She was hoppy, happy, and ready to love on anyone from the moment she was born. It became evident very early on that we would keep her because she had enough energy to keep up with Beau. I started referring to her as “Joy Incarnate” at three weeks old because she always has been. I renamed her because I wanted a more unique name, so she’s gone by Makeda—an Ethiopian warrior queen—since she was three weeks old. She’s shy yet rambunctious, playful yet cuddly, happy yet reserved. She’s a dichotomy, and I fall in love with her more every day.
(Lily-May) Sadie has resting sad face.
Lily-May was born on March 4, 2020 at 1: 20 am, weighing 10.48 ounces. Named for Lily Bart in House of Mirth and May Whelan in The Age of Innocence both by Edith Wharton. Shy yet ridiculously lovable, she was always excited about everything once she felt safe. It was impossible to stay away from her because she followed me everywhere any chance she got. Today, she goes by Sadie and lives in Houston with her rescue dog brother, Cooper.
It’s (Athena) Teena’s turn to look-ish at the camera.
Athena was born on March 4, 2020 at 5:20 am, weighing 10.26 ounces. She was sweet but always a little funny. She wanted to cuddle but not that much. She wanted to play but not too much. She was curious but super cautious. She would frighten incredibly easily. She had such a soft coat, I loved burying my face in her neck and covering her with kisses. My dad has a knack for giving funny nicknames. He started calling her Teena, and it stuck. Today, she lives with my parents in Ames, Iowa with her sister, Hera, and their rescue dog Barney.
I never knew what (Oryol) Murphy’s ears would do from one day to the next.
Oryol was born on March 4, 2020 at 6:08 am, weighing 11.99 ounces. Named after Ivan Turgenev’s hometown in Russia. He was a chonk from the start and all about the cuddles. I was obsessed with his ears; they never knew what they were doing and changed day to day. He was so laid back that he earned the nickname “Stoner Puppy.” He loved playing, cuddles, and diving face first into food: the messier the better. He hated bathtime, though. For such a lazy puppy, he popped right to life the moment I tried to bathe him. I hope for his mama’s sake, he’s gotten better with age on that front. He lives in Houston, Texas with his mom and goes by the name Murphy.
Bear is much, much, much bigger now.
Bear was born on March 4, 2020 at 8:46 am, weighing 12.1 ounces. Last but definitely not least, Bear is unforgettable. He was the last, the largest, and the most headstrong of the bunch. Where there was a will, Bear would find his way. He was a cuddly challenge from day one, but he’s impossible not to love even when he was causing me a great deal of frustration. His dad fell in love with him, and he ended up staying in my personal pack. I wish I could say he’s gotten easier, but all I can say is: he’s gotten bigger! He lived up to the name Bear and weighs about 100 pounds with the biggest head he could muster. Luckily, he’s more lovable than he is frustrating.
Happy Birthday my babies! I can’t believe you’re all a year old. I can’t believe I survived. I really can’t believe I’m the mama to four of you. To my other nine babies: I miss you all every single day, think of you often, scroll through the thousands of pictures I took, and talk about you endlessly. I am beyond lucky to have watched you grow into the puppies you were, and I am even more blessed to be able to watch you all grow into the dogs you are becoming. One year down forever to go!
bisous und обьятий, RaeAnna (Your First Human Mama)
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Pack Discount—I have so many dogs, I get a pack discount at the vet. It’s something, and I’ll take it.
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.
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.
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.
Tess was happy I FINALLY stopped teasing her with the cake and even wore a party hat to get a bite of that cake. | Dress | Hair Bow | Earrings | Necklace |
Happy Birthday Tess!
She’s reached the ripe old age of two, as of last Saturday. I’m late posting because I’m the worst mama ever, but she celebrated with cake.
Alright, if I’m being honest, I have no idea when she turns two. That’s the nature of rescues. We just have no idea. The vet can give us an estimate of how old they think she is, but there’s no telling. Last year, when I took her to the vet the day after rescuing her pregnant-ass off the side of the road, the vet said they were doubtful if she was even a year old yet, which made me sad. How hard must her life have been to not only get shot (yes, there’s a bullet in her back), living on the street, and get knocked up all before her first birthday.
Everyone deserves a birthday, and I decided to make Tess a year old upon her adoption into the Rekemeyer family by giving her the birthday of January 9, 2019. I also really like numbers in patterns, so that looks like 1.9.19 (Beau’s is 5.15.15).
It’s not a birthday without a personalized, dog-friendly cake from Three Dog Bakery. Tess devoured her part, and no she did not eat the whole thing by herself. She definitely got the biggest slice, but everyone else got a slice too. Beau took her slice and ran so she could enjoy it in solitude. Knight carried his around the house with a prideful prance. Duke laid on the ground and ate it upside down with confused enthusiasm. Bear was terrified of the thing in his bowl and ran away howling. Makeda enjoyed her piece and Bear’s with optimistic bewilderment. The puppies don’t get people food or anything other than dog treats and their special food, so it’s always funny on the rare instance they get something out of their norm.
Tess has been full of surprises from the moment I brought her home. Carrying a host of problems and a shockingly large litter, she has been the sweetest problem raiser I’ve ever encountered. Luckily, the problems and surprises have not been behavior or attitude things, they’ve all been her tiny body doing funky things or due to her previously homeless predicament.
Of course, we couldn’t enjoy her birthday without a memorable hiccup. Due to health reasons and concerns from our various veterinary health professionals and specialists, the 2020 dog additions have not been fixed yet.
Tess went into heat a month and a half ago. Every precaution was taken to prevent another unwanted pregnancy—not that I don’t love every single one of her puppies. No more babies! When I say, every precaution, I mean, everything physically possible was done to ensure there would be no incestual babies in my house. That being said, I rounded the corner one day to find Bear—the youngest, biggest, and most sexually aggressive puppy—attempting intimate relations with his mom through the bars of her kennel…. I guess where there’s a will, there’s an awkward attempt. If it weren’t so completely distressing, the effort would have been very comical to watch play out. I did not, however, watch it play out. Being a cock block has always been one of my many talents, and this mama stepped in right away.
The likelihood Tess wound up with children once again through the kennel was highly unlikely, and I talked my anxiety demon down for a good month and a half. Then a week ago, I was laying in bed with Tess on my face (because where else, in a king sized bed, would she possibly want to settle?) and noticed her nipples and boobies were starting to engorge. Fuck… I took her to the vet for a pregnancy test as soon as they could get me in, which was an incredibly stressful 27 hours of researching second trimester dog pregnancy signs, googling Texas’ doggy abortion laws (yes, that’s a real thing), and crying about the fact that I let this poor little thing down.
After spending $629, I found out Tessa is a big fat liar.
She’s experiencing a false pregnancy. Thankfully there are no father-brothers or a grandma-mother in my house; yes, that felt as dirty to type as I’m sure it did to read. Suffice to say the vet and all the staff had a good laugh at the thought of Bear trying to canoodle through the bars of a kennel.
No babies. Tess is completely fine and a very happy two year old. She’s just hormonal and continues to surprise me in expensive, inventive, and stressful ways. Once she’s heartworm negative (we find out in April), we’re yanking that overachieving uterus.
bisous und обьятий, RaeAnna + Tessa
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Christmas tree hunting has been a tradition my entire life.
What is the definition of Christmas tree hunting? For me, it means, first, locating a Christmas tree farm: one that grows Christmas trees. [My personal favorite in the Houston area is High Star Christmas Tree Farm. It’s north of Houston. They have amazing prices and friendly staff.] Once at the farm, the hunt is on. Grab a saw and a measuring stick. Find the plumpest, tallest, most symmetrical tree that your space allows. Lay down on the ground, saw that tree down. Shake it, bundle it, pay for it, put it in the truck, head home to set it up and decorate!
Every single year, minus 1999, 2014, and 2015, I have gone to a tree farm, hunted the perfect tree, and cut it down. By I cut it down, I mean, my father, my boyfriend, my friend, my boyfriend, anyone that wasn’t me cut it down. We’ll get to that in a moment. The reason for no tree hunting in 1999 was: My family and I weren’t home for Christmas. We were celebrating in California with family, so we decorated a Christmas cactus. 2014 and 2015 did not have a tree hunt because I was living with my best friend’s family, and they have a fake tree.
Beau loves the big dogs that moo so much!!!
Out of my thirty Christmases, I have had a real live tree personally cut down (by a someone close to me but not me) for twenty-seven of those Christmases.
The most fun part about Christmas trees… I’M ALLERGIC!!! Our love is greater than my inability to touch them. I have a commitment to real trees because I love them, I love their smell, I love having a real tree that I picked out of the ground. Luckily, I have people who love me enough to struggle cutting down a tree, setting it up, and decorating it. I, graciously, take on the role of manager, pastry chef, and barista. Everyone gets what they want, but mostly I do.
Loving on the best girl in the whole world.
Once Beau entered the family, she started coming on the hunt for the perfect Christmas tree. This is her fourth year. This year, we have five extra dogs in the house. We decided to save our sanity, and only brought Beau with us to hunt. She loves it. She loved looking at the big dogs that go moo and rubbing up against the pine needles. She did her very best to try and greet every human and pupper she met. And per usual, she did not want to cooperate for family pictures, but I managed to get one nonetheless.
This is also the first Christmas in my own house. A house with a very high ceiling, a very large living room, and fireplace warranting a large ass tree. I managed to find the chonkiest twelve foot tree I could find. It is a giant of a tree. I love it so much. The amount of joy it brings me is too great for words. Pictures will be coming soon. Bringing it in, setting it up, and decorating it was a several day process because it’s very large and very beautiful. I am in love with my Christmas tree.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!
bisous und обьятий, RaeAnna + Beau
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Duke loves to look out the windows and watch the world go by.
My sweet boy always makes me laugh.
Three month old Duke smiling for the camera.
Had you told me a year ago, I was going to own a house and fill it with six dogs, I would have been surprised but not shocked. I was happily living in an apartment with one dog and pushing against the constant “Can we get a second dog?” My answer was always “No.” I wanted to keep my life as simple as possible. One dog is not simple, but it is simpler than two dogs. Why would I not have been shocked? Buying a house was an ongoing conversation. I have a heart for animals, so there was probably a good reason I would have six dogs.
In February, I brought home a stray dog, Tessa. We had already started the home buying process. Tess had thirteen puppies five days later. I kept saying we weren’t going to keep any except the mama. Dylan said, “We’ll keep one. We have to keep one.” I said, “Fine.” Then it turned into keeping two dogs. One for him, one for me. That turned into three dogs because the runtiest had made an extra special place for himself in our hearts after working our butts off to keep him alive and he had some health issues we wanted to make sure were properly seen to his whole life long.
Keeping four puppies was an accident. Everyone had been claimed by the beginning of June, except Duke. He was the second runt and sweet as pie. Every prospective family fell through. The wife wanted him, but the husband said no. It wasn’t the right time. They didn’t pass my tests.
He loves sitting with his face propped up on something.
It ended up being such a blessing Duke stayed in the family.
I can’t imagine our family without Duke. He brings me so much joy. He’s the only one who likes to fall asleep in Mommy’s arms, and, dammit, I want a cuddler! If I didn’t, I’d have cats. Duke listens and learns better than the other dogs. He’s gentle and sweet and keeps Knight company. He loves playing with others but also being alone. He loves hanging around outside after everyone has gone in to soak up some sun. The addition to the family isn’t just because of his amazing personality, it is because he has some serious health problems.
Duke’s top jaw is much longer than his bottom jaw. His lower canines are boring holes into his top palette. If the problem is not taken care of it will eventually lead to open sores, abscesses, infection, and a host of other serious problems. That’s just what we could see. His overbite started becoming noticeable around eight weeks old, but it wasn’t extravagant. By the time he was four months, it started being incredibly noticeable. And we started worrying.
You can kind of see his funny overbite.
We took Duke to the vet regularly so they could check up on him. The beginning of September, I took him to the vet to have it checked because we were noticing significant effects. We were referred to several dental specialists so we could get him in ASAP. He had grown so quickly in two weeks; extensive damage/trauma happened in a very short period of time. We had several appointments saved with different dental specialists across the state. Finally one of the best dental specialists in the state/country was able to squeeze him a month ahead of everyone else.
I have had so very many sleepless nights worrying about him and quite frankly how we’ll pay for it if the procedures end up being even more extravagant. The puppies have been a series of rare problems, and it has been expensive. LIke, really expensive. I don’t regret it, but we are to the very end of our financial string. We’ll make more money, but Tess and her thirteen puppies have one chance at life and we want to make sure those lives are happy and healthy.
Up until a few days ago, we weren’t sure if Duke was going to have his toofers removed or need facial reconstructive surgery. His needs and future were up in the air until the specialist could take a look.
Lounging is his favorite activity. He is such a fancy boy.
Thankfully, Duke’s is the best worst case scenario. All of his teeth have, miraculously, aligned well except his bottom two canines.
We have a surgery date! On November 5, he will go in for tooth reduction and vital pulp therapy—it’s a weird process that you can google if you really want to know what it is. As long as everything goes well, he’ll come home the same night. He’ll have seven days of taking it easy on his little mouth, and six months later, he’ll get to go back for a check in to make sure everything worked wonders.
Duke gets to keep his teeth and his cute fucked up face forever. We are so, so, so happy and relieved. I have been an absolute mess worrying about him for the last three months wondering if this will be problematic and affect his quality of life forever, which has been my biggest fear for him. It won’t! He gets to be a happy, healthy member of the pack for years to come.
bisous und обьятий, RaeAnna + Duke
He just wants to cuddle and look up at you with his big happy eyes.
