I feel most myself in nature. At the top of a mountain, there’s a sense of possibility and belonging. From a high vantage point, the world lays itself out to be seen as it is, and in that raw existence is the truth that it can be changed. It can get better. People deserve to live vibrantly in this beautiful world rife with chance. I am overcome with a calling to exist, to be a part of the global landscape, to create enough ripples to spread far enough that eventually someone will be affected in some way and the world will be a better place for one, for many, hopefully, for all.
Standing with my toes in the water on the beach has always been one of my happiest places because it is devoid of hope and utterly isolating. It’s how I feel all the time. At sea level, my view is stunted. I am still overcome with possibility and beauty, but my ability to see past what is is impeded by being in it.
Sometimes, I walk. Sometimes, I stand.
Maybe it’s not even nature that makes me feel like myself, it’s that I’m almost always alone in it. I travel, do life alone. Even when I’ve been in relationships, I almost always exist in the world by myself because no one can keep up, I’m a lot, I don’t want to let people in, so many reasons. I’ve never really had a partner. Not a real partner. So maybe it’s just the fact, I can breathe because I’m not being anything for anyone other than me. Except I’m alone far more than I’m around people, and I can only truly take a breath when I’m surrounded by nature.
I remember being on a deserted beach on the coast of North Carolina in front of a lighthouse with the one person who knows me best in the world. It was an amalgamation of my literal favorite things: solitude, beach, North Carolina, lighthouse, this one specific human. It was a beautiful day. The thing I remember most was standing in the ocean. The waves wrapping around my legs, and the sand burying my feet deeper and deeper. Time passed me by, and I just stood there. Overcome by the senselessness of it all. I don’t know if I would have ever left that spot if he hadn’t come up behind me, putting his chin on my shoulder, hugging me out of my head. He let me stand there for over an hour because he knows me. He knows the despair in my soul and my need to honor it, but he also knows the need I hate to admit exists to feel connected, and for so long, he was the only one I was connected to. The only one who saw, accepted, and loved me.
I am so many muches. I am aware of it. Even masked, I am a lot. Once I get comfy with someone, I’m even more. If the trauma and true thoughts and feelings come out, well… there’s like three people who truly know how fucking much I am.
The best feeling.
I am well past existentialism and have found myself knee-deep in nihilism since I was about 20. Most people would not call it a happy mindset; however, I find it to be the most comforting. I can’t make sense out of it. Try as I might. When anxiety takes over, I just remind myself: The Big Crunch doesn’t care about my credit, my love life, sexism, or any of it. Theoretical Astrophysics… that’s what keeps me from spiraling into utter insanity. Not that billions of people deserve better than this shit show, and I’m trying to do my part. It’s: eventually, all of this will disappear, I will be forgotten, and the universe will start again. I am so fucked up. Whatever keeps me balanced, y’all!
Anyways, I need to take a trip to the beach. Until then: Here are some thoughts I’ve had while standing in the ocean. A lot of these have been recurring since before I was ten, but now I have the words to articulate those feelings. And also, my parents can’t commit me for not being happy 24/7.
Flannel at the beach since 2017… Gay.
I am the most forgettable person to ever exist.
No matter how hard I work, how exceptional/smart/cunning/knowledgeable/talented I am, I will never have the kind of systemic impact I so desperately want to have.
The world is a dumpster fire. No one cares. Knowledge is so accessible and people are still not trying. They have all the world’s information and solutions in their pocket… hand right now because I doubt you’re reading this on a computer or tablet and you sure as shit didn’t print it out to read it on paper. There are solutions to all the problems. Yet no one wants to take the first step of educating themselves. FUCK! Google that shit. It’s easy.
There is nothing unique or special about me.
I am nowhere near as talented as I once hoped I would be.
Why try? It’s futile. I’m one in eight billion people. Someone else can be known as the girl who got cyclically raped into social justice advocate.
My writing is selfish, narcissistic, and steeped in martyrdom. Also it’s boring and not a single person gives a shit.
All of everything I’ve ever done with my life, career, advocacy is done just so I can have the moral high ground because I don’t want to be seen as the truly bad human I know I am.
I’m making it all up. I am, in fact, the liar my parents decry.
I am only as valuable as my beauty.
I am alone because I deserve to be alone. Everyone sees the truth: I don’t deserve kindness, love, respect, dignity.
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)
