Tag: Tess and Her Puppies

Blog + Dog, In My Own Words, Lifestyle

Happy 2nd Birthday Tess, My Little Liar

RaeAnna
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. 

Tess eyeing her cake from Three Dog Bakery. | Hair Bow | Dress | Earrings

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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Blog + Dog

New Mom, New House

RaeAnna
Binge watching Netflix and Hulu with the kiddos. | Pajamas | Slippers

The puppies are only four months old. We’ve been in the house for a month and a half. Even Tess has only been with us for four and a half months. It’s all still pretty new.  

Everyday is a new day with new challenges because the puppies are growing like crazy. Four months old, and they’re all almost or over thirty pounds. They’re about as big as their mama; she doesn’t tower over them anymore. They’re huge puppies and not super well trained because they’re puppies and there are four of them. So we’re constantly puppy proofing and trying to teach them how to behave. While also keeping them from teething on everything and peeing inside. Their big toofers are coming in, and they look like they have people dentures stuck in their mouth. (Although, I’m not sure there’s any other kind of dentures, so I probably didn’t have to specy “people dentures” on that one.) It’s funny, but they don’t stay still long enough to get a picture of this phenomenon. 

We definitely have our work cut out for us. But there is a routine, and they’re doing so well. They know how to sit and – kind of – stay. They sit, stay, and wait for their food… almost. They go into their kennels on command. They’ve learned not to bite/nibble/chew on people and furniture. Shoes are another story. We have only had one accident inside in the last three weeks. They know not to play on the couch; that’s for sitting and sleeping and cuddling. They are super smart, which is good and bad. They learn quickly, but they’re smart enough to figure things out that I’d rather them not. Sometimes I call them my terrorist infestation, but all of the time I love them with my whole heart. There’s nothing better than coming home and seeing all six fur-kids in the window. 

Tess is an angel. She has truly come into herself over the last four months. She is less neurotic than Beau. I have no idea how I got so lucky with such a smart, good girl. Training has been such a breeze with her. We haven’t done too much, but she knows sit and come, which are the most important anyways. She also knows when she’s getting a treat; that one she learned very quickly. She doesn’t like giving kisses, but she loves snuggles, playtime, and just being with me. I can pick her up and carry her around like the puppies. She is wonderful.

Tess is heartworm positive. Now that she has weaned the puppies, gained some weight, gotten comfortable, and as healthy as possible, we have started the de-heartworming process. She’s a month and a half in. Next month, she will have her first shot, and hopefully it goes well. She just had all her vaccinations, and she’s getting spayed and microchipped next month. She’s on her way to being healthy. I cannot wait for her to be able to run and play unhindered. I didn’t know if she would be a runner or player when she first came home. Being as heavily pregnant and sick as she was, she was happy to just sleep. Not anymore, she is rambunctious. It’s going to be great seeing her live her best, healthy life in a few months. 

Beau has finally accepted the puppies are here to stay. She loves Tess, but the puppies took some getting used to. They are absolutely infatuated with her, but that’s probably because Beau is completely ambivalent towards them. Beau has made it known that I’m her mom first and their mom second. I think she’ll love them someday when they’re less tiny and stupid.

I am the kind of person that likes to have everything unpacked and organized right away. That did not happen. I’m new mom, new house tired. 

We moved in with most of the puppies, who were the main priority. Now that we have it whittled down to the ones we’re keeping, life is working into a new rhythm. I finally have time to unpack and start painting… Except I’m still exhausted. I have been sleeping more and doing as little as possible because raising the puppies was exhausting and draining. I have needed to take some time to recuperate. The puppies are the main priority. Sleeping has been the second. Work has been the third. House has come very last. So only the essentials are unpacked. I’m starting to get back to my old self, so hopefully things will start shaping up around the house. 

For now, I’m gonna go back to binge watching Peaky Blinders or stand-up comedy with my children. 

bisous und обьятий,
RaeAnna, Beau, Tess, Knight, Duke, Makeda, + Bear

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Blog + Dog

The Struggle

RaeAnna

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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