This is not a complaining post. In comparison to so many people around the world, the pandemic and quarantine has gone very well for me and my family. That being said, we have been affected in some highly significant ways. It has been difficult, but we’re staying optimistic, and I’m surrounded by my quaranteam aka thirteen puppies and their mama.
Dad and I giving the puppies attention in Ames, Iowa.Getting my puppy love on!
I’m homeless. A very long story will come about this because I truly have no idea what is going to happen right now.
The puppies, Tess, and I are living with my parents in Iowa for the near future because we have nowhere else to go.
I went six weeks without making a single penny. When it comes to spending money, people don’t like to hire writers/creatives during financially problematic times. (Luckily, it’s slowly – very – starting to come back.)
Like millions of others across the country and around the world, my boyfriend lost his job.
Having a sick rescue and a litter of puppies means lots and lots of visits to the vet. I have not been able to go into the vet appointments with them since their first week check… two and a half months ago. It’s harder on Tess than the puppies because she gets so scared I’m going to leave her every time she is dropped off. It’s been very hard on her anxiety.
Beau is gaining weight and getting irritable because she can’t go to the dog park.
I wasn’t able to watch my best friend or little sister graduate from their Master’s program and Bachelor’s degree respectively. It breaks my heart for them and me; I can’t be their obnoxious cheerleader in the crowd screaming their name as they walk across the stage even though we’re not supposed to.
I haven’t been able to see Beau regularly in a long time because she’s staying with her dad so I have one less thing on my plate. I miss her dearly, and I think she is mad at me for leaving her.
The blog and the Instagram are being neglected because finding content creation inspiration is hard when I’m stuck at home constantly… My home isn’t that cute! I need some pictures for this damnit!!!
I was stuck in the car for 974 miles with thirteen puppies and a grown dog. That translates to a fifteen hour car ride, which was extended to twenty-one hours because dogs…. It was far more disgusting than you’re even imagining. Horrible. I will have to do it again, and I’m dreading it.
Last but not least, a positive: I have read so many books! So there’s been a positive impact on my reading list.
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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Oh 2020… You have not begun the way I was hoping. Coronavirus has hit the world in pandemic proportions. With social distancing and quarantining being the thing to do, I figured I would share some wisdom when you’re stuck at home.
My life has changed very little because of quarantining and social distancing. Working from home, being an extreme introvert, and having a very tiny social life means I don’t leave the house all that much. I have become quite the connoisseur of staying in. I’m quite the indoorsy lady. Beau misses the dog park, but she doesn’t mind the extra cuddles I’m able to give her because of my sluggish work schedule.
Read a book. This requires nothing but a cup of tea and a book. Dog cuddles make the activity even better.
Play board games. My personal favorite is Scrabble; it’s good for the brain; it’s good for the competitive spirit; it’s good fun.
Have sex or masterbate. Whatever. Enjoy your significant other or yourself. You deserve it.
Binge watch a cooking show. Find something ridiculous you want to try. Then try and make it. I suggest the Great British Bake Off. I have made several pastries in varying degrees of success.
Declutter. This is boring, but it will make you feel absolutely amazing when it’s all done. You also get bragging rights about not wasting your quarantine and being a badass.
Take up yoga/pilates/zumba/working out. I won’t do this, but I know some people have. It’s a good way to get flexible since we’re being forced to be flexible with our schedules.
Download Duolingo and learn a language. Try Gaelic or Welsh or Vulcan. It could be fun and funny to show off your Elvish skills when you can go to bars again.
Watch those movies you’ve been wanting to watch but have never had the time to watch. Seriously. Dedicate a two day spree to watching those movies. We all have a list of them on Amazon, Netflix, Hulu, Vudu, or all of those. You know you want to.
Cuddle your dog. If you don’t have a dog, adopt a dog!
Call the people you’ve been meaning to call or text them or even write a letter. They’re great; you miss them; reach out. I do love sending a good letter, but I’m a weirdo. I think we should bring letter writing back, though.
Have a photoshoot. For real. Grab those clothes you LOVE but never have a chance or reason to wear. Head out with a friend or a tripod somewhere cute and take pictures. You deserve it. Plus you’ll have something cute to remember this disaster of a time.
bisous und обьятий, RaeAnna
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