I’m living with a florist — Amanda Bee’s Floral Design, shameless plug for my bff — right now. I thought I’d do a dedicated flower post because why not? Also, I’m lacking inspiration, and her backyard is full of flowers, which makes taking pictures much, much easier.
I love gardens filled with flowers, but I have no desire to work in a garden or do anything to tend to them. Someday, I hope to have enough money to pay someone to come do it all for me. Or marry a younger Monty Don.
Narcissus = Daffodils I was two-days-ago years old when I made that connection.
The puppies have done some serious damage to Amanda’s flower beds. Will be purchasing dirt and flowers to replace in the near future.
Best way to keep your flowers fresh: put new water in the vase daily and wash off the stems.
I’m allergic to everything under the sun, but flower pollen doesn’t bother me that much.
Cut roses back in the spring to encourage growth… unless they’re rambling roses, then do it in the fall.
I have a real love for watching any and all Monty Don shows.
Magnolias are one of the oldest flowering trees in the world. Fossilized versions have been found dating back to 20 million years ago, but the family has been around for at least 95 million years. They were around before bees, so they relied on beetles to pollinate them. Woah.
A mud head will be built in my backyard someday.
Phytotelmata holds water for insects to use as a reservoir. A heliconia is an example.
I went to the largest garden and flower show in the world in 2012: The Chelsea Flower Show. It was amazing. I really want to go back.
This may come as a shock to you, but I read a lot. I think story time is important for everyone, including puppies.
They’re six weeks old today. They love playing outside, eating all the food, gnawing on plants, pooping everywhere, and taking naps. I can’t wait for them to learn how to climb stairs. Carrying thirteen heavy, growing puppies up and down the stairs four plus times a day is exhausting. Although, I’m going to have a great butt when this is all said and done. They have loved running around Amanda’s – read this post if you don’t know what I’m talking about – backyard and laying in the sun. Today, they spent nine hours outside; 70° couldn’t be better for them. They’ve also found a love of playing in water. When it gets warmer, we’re planning on filling the kiddy pool, the one they were born in, for them to splash around.
Whenever I sit down, all thirteen fuzz-butts come running and volley for a place in my lap. It’s heaven. They always sit so cute, I thought it would be a great time to read them a book, or, at least, pose with a book for a super cute picture. It did not go quite so smoothly. They were too excited about literally anything else to crawl in my lap. We’ll try again another time, but we did get some cute photos and a lot of bloopers.
Reading with as many puppies as I could wrangle.
I bought When You Love A Dog by M.H. Clark from a store here in Houston back in February before the puppies and Tess arrived on the scene. A week later, my house had fifteen dogs instead of the one. When you love a dog, you take on a lot of responsibility and tasks you probably wouldn’t otherwise, like not sleeping, cleaning poop, doing laundry at 4:00 am, bottle feeding every two hours, spending thousands on emergency vet runs, moving in with your best friend so the puppies can be safe and happy, making stinky puppy food at 1:30/5:30 am, and so many more things. I took on Tess and the circus because I love Beau with my entire heart. Tess needed someone to love her and help her through this time, and that person was me. I knew it the moment I stood in the field coaxing her into my arms. I’m exhausted, broke, homeless (not really, but it kind of feels that way), and I couldn’t be happier. Loving dogs has always been the best part of my life. Now I can love thirteen puppies and help them find their furever homes so other people can love a dog too.
When You Love A Dog is a cute little book perfect for any dog owner. I can’t wait to decorate one of the rooms in my home with pictures of all the puppies, Tess, and Beau and fill that room with sweet little books like these. “When you love a dog, someone waits for you, with a true and joyful heart.” It couldn’t be truer. My life is hectic and exhausting, but I have never felt more loved by my fur babies and my friends. This has been an incredible blessing.
bisous und обьятий, RaeAnna + Tess + The Circus
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Title: When You Love A Dog Author: M.H. Clark Illustrator: Tatsuro Kiuchi Publisher: Compendium Publishing Copyright: 2018 ISBN: 9781943200986
Posing with the puppies in Amanda’s backyard in our matching Bee Kind shirts. | Floral Shorts |
I met Amanda because of my blog. She is a florist and business owner — of Amanda Bee’s Floral Design, the best florist in town and probably the country — in Houston. Almost two years ago, she reached out to me because she wanted to do a collaboration. A few days after corresponding by email, she showed up on my doorstep with a big bouquet of flowers. We chatted for five minutes, and in that time frame, she said “We’re going to be friends.” I found out she only lived eight minutes away from me, a happy coincidence. A week later, we went out for lunch. That evening, I ended up in an alley, changing into wedding dresses for a really fun photo shoot to showcase her floral designs. We’ve been inseparable ever since. Amanda has become more than a friend over the last two years; she’s family. We’ve spent holidays together, gone on vacation, hosted game nights, baked, learned from each other, helped, vented, met each other’s families, and a plethora of other very weird and oddly specific things. We have made her husband and my boyfriend become friends because they don’t have any other option. She is Beau’s godmother and has done innumerable things to help take care of Beau when I’ve been out of town or just need a backyard to get the zoomies out. Houston would not be the place it is without her. I have come to depend on her in so many ways. She even helped bring the puppies into this world because I was unable to. I am a better person because she is in my life. We can adventure together or sit on the couch and do nothing together. I have started referring to Amanda as my personal Patron Saint. She shows up even when I don’t know I need her. She stayed with Tess while we were waiting for the puppies to arrive. Not only did she help bring all thirteen puppies into the world, she has opened up her home to all of us. I live in an apartment. The apartment has a two pets per home policy… I am, currently, thirteen over that limit. My parents offered to let me, Tess, and all the puppies stay with them in Iowa. The problem: That’s a sixteen hour drive (nonstop) with THIRTEEN very, very, very young puppies. Oh, and I’d have to drive them all those sixteen hours back to Houston. Amanda and Andrew, her husband, opened up their home to me, Tess, and the puppies. She cleared out an entire room for the puppies to stay in and one for me. It’s not even for a short amount of time. We’re here for a LONG time during a pandemic and quarantine. I can’t imagine how inconvenient it is to have fourteen dogs and an extra person around 24/7. They offered without hesitation or provocation. They have been an absolute blessing. I truly do not know what I would do without their kindness. It’s an immense gift they’ve given me, and I will be baking them yum-yums forever and in the after life. Anyways. Here are eleven reasons Amanda is one of my closest friends and an incredible human being.
She always shows up with a smile and a helping hand.
Flowers. So many flowers. Having a florist friend is amazing, and she’s so talented.
Her sense of humor is perfectly matched to my own. We’re always laughing.
She loves board games as much as I do. Maybe more.
We can adventure together.
She’s smart. So, so smart. She has Bachelor of Arts in Horticulture with an emphasis in Floral Design and Event Planning and aMinor in Entomology. (She will kill all the bugs for me and plant my garden. No joke. It happens.) She has a wealth of knowledge on the natural world. It’s so fun listening to her talk about her job and gardening and plants and even bugs. If I want to know what a flower or plant is, I send her a picture, and she texts me the answer within seconds. She has taught me about slugs and butterflies and lots of other things I’ve blocked out of my bug-hating mind. I have my very own natural dictionary.
It drives me bonkers how humble she is. She is absolutely incredible, smart, fascinating, and more, but she has no idea!
Her sense of style and aesthetic is incredible. Honestly, I want to show everyone her house, and I have brought many people over. I always want to show people how amazing she is and what she can do; her house is such a pure reflection of everything she is.
Kindness is at the heart of everything she does. There are few people who possess a similar depth of kindness, altruism, and understanding. It’s unending and radiant. Being around Amanda is calming and invigorating because she makes you feel like you’re the most important person.
You would be hard pressed to find a better cheerleader.
She’s effortlessly cool in her own unique brand of unapologetically and perfectly weird.
*Bonus* She’s proud of who she is and stands up for what she believes in. I may not agree with all of her beliefs, but I respect her, which is far more important and much harder to earn.
I could write a much longer list than eleven (twelve) things about all the reasons Amanda is wonderful. I think it’s impossible for anyone to dislike her, but I might be biased, and if you do dislike her, what did you do to deserve her wrath? Even if this blog disappeared tomorrow, I would be forever grateful it brought us together. She was a blessing two years ago and has continued to be one every day, ever since. I don’t know if it was luck or fate, but whatever it was, I feel lucky she knocked on my door and told me we would be friends. I am proud to call her a friend. I am honored to call her family.
bisous und обьятий, RaeAnna
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If my body had done what it was supposed to five years ago, I would be throwing a quarantine birthday party for my five year-old son or daughter right now.
Having children has never ever been a part of my life plan. Being a mother is not something I have ever craved. It has been something I’ve avoided like the plague. When I am sexually active, I obsessively avoid getting pregnant by using birth control and condoms. I’ve even gotten Plan B when condoms break because NOPE. I have enough money set aside to take care of problems if need be. I’m that kind of person.
I was that kind of person when I found out I was thirteen weeks pregnant in early fall of 2014. Miracles happen, I guess. It was too late to do anything about being pregnant. I was pregnant. I was going to be a mom. I was very much alone in my soon-to-be-parenting party. It hit me like a truck. I started planning and dreaming and getting excited because that was the only option, so I embraced it. Then, I had a miscarriage. I was mostly devastated. Relief came several weeks later as the tears slowed and the dreams faded.
As the years go by, the feelings are less poignant; the hurt is less sharp; the dreams are hazier. I still get sad. Sometimes, I even cry when I watch kids movies. Every once in a while, I think about what my life would look like had my body not failed at one of its main biologically female tasks. As ready as I was financially, in my career, and at that point in my life, I had never planned on being a mom. Five years later, my feelings have not changed: I’m sad and relieved. Those feelings can go together. You can be sorrowfully content with a miscarriage. You don’t have to have just one feeling. You are allowed to feel all the feelings whatever they are, no matter how at odds they may be with one another. It does not make you less of a woman. It does not make you less of a mother. It does not make you less of anything. It makes you a complex human, who is coping with a really difficult physical, mental, and medical situation.
Miscarriages are rarely talked about. That is starting to change as women speak about women’s issues more and more openly. Thank you to all the women on social media who are deciding to be vulnerable and honest about the crap we go through. When miscarriages are talked about, it’s usually about how overwhelmingly sad and painful they are. They are. I’m not going to lie to you about that. It’s true. It sucks. It’s sad. It’s the worst. There can also be some real positives coming out of miscarriages. They’re not apparent at first, but over the months and years as your mind and body heal, things start to look and feel better.
The majority of miscarriages happen because, for whatever reason, the body knows the baby shouldn’t come into the world for one biological reason or another. You can do everything right starting months before conception and still have a miscarriage. (Granted that was not me. Accident baby. Although, I didn’t really do much wrong.) Miscarriages happen. They happen for almost always good reasons. All babies are perfect, but not all babies are meant for this world.
Positives of miscarriages differ from person to person. One thing I can say for everyone, the life we have in this moment is not at all the life we would have had had that baby come into the world. For some of us, that’s a bad thing. For some of us, that’s a good thing. For some of us, it’s just a thing. I have an incredible life. I wouldn’t change it for the world. I would, under no circumstance, have this life with a five year old.
I would not…
have the boyfriend I have now.
had the freedom to quit my corporate job, the stable paycheck, the benefits.
be a freelance writer and blogger.
be able to sit on the couch and do nothing for hours on end.
live in Houston.
travel as much or the way I do.
have Beau in my life.
have been able to pick Tess up off the side of the road.
have the time, energy, or money to take care of thirteen puppies.
have found or reconnected with my truest passions in life.
be chasing my wild, crazy, unrealistic dreams.
have the friends I do.
walk around pantless all the time.
read as much as I do.
stay up late doing whatever the fuck I want to whenever the fuck I want to.
have the body I do.
have a savings account with money in it specifically for travel (which happens often) and/or buying things I decide I need right now (which never happens, but it’s nice to know it’s there).
be me the way I am right now.
I have no idea what my life would look like had Paeton Rae been born. I know I would have a corporate job with good benefits and a salary high enough to pay for everything she/he/their needs and wants and for us to go on a family vacation once a year. I know there would be a bedtime, healthy snacks, play dates, trips to the park, time outs, library trips, tantrums, snuggles, bedtime reading, dance parties, messes, and a lot of other things my life does not have right now. I would have loved that life for what it was, but that was never my dream. I never had to make the decision to not be pregnant, to not be a mom; my body did that for me. I was sad. I am sad. I miss the life I could have had and holding the baby I never got to hold.
But.
I love my life. I see the blessing the sadness of my miscarriage was. I see all the opportunities and possibilities my life still has in store for me that would not have been possible as a single mom to a five year old.
bisous und обьятий, RaeAnna
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Welcome to the family Tess, Siren, March, Knight, Hardy, Duke, Nosky, Hera, Boudica, Makeda, Lily-May, Athena, Oryol, and Bear.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Worth A Read Yes Length 406 Quick Review Delving into magical realism and familiar themes of justice, humanity, freedom, and equality, the era of slavery is raging in Ta-Nehisi Coates debut novel.
Ta-Nehisi Coates’ writes incredible essays and nonfiction, which are entertaining and thought provoking. I couldn’t wait to see what Coates would do in a world he created himself. Set in pre-Civil War Virginia, The Water Dancer is an impressive piece of fiction.
Hiram Walker is the son of a slave and the Lockless plantation owner. His mother was sold when he was young, and he was taken in and raised by another slave on the plantation. The community is made up of Quality, slave/land owners, the Tasked, slaves, and classless whites. Hiram is an exceptional human because of his photogenic memory, but he also possesses the gift of conduction, the ability to travel across great distance through waterways. He eventually travels to Philadelphia through the Underground Railroad, where he meets Moses, a legendary Underground member.
One of my favorite parts about the story is the way it is framed and told. Coates introduces Hiram in a death scene in chapter one. It captures the readers’ attention and holds it. There are also breaks in the narrative, where Hiram speaks as an older wiser man reminiscing about his younger years and even to speak directly to the reader. There is a lot of dependence on mysticism and suspension of reality. Coates shows the evils of slavery through the eyes of a slave. He also shows the entire society was trapped in the horrific cycle. Everyone suffered. No one was free.
Story wise, it’s very interesting, well thought out, and thoroughly researched. Honestly, it’s rather forgettable. I’m having a hard time writing a decent or even remotely in depth review because it did not sweep me along. I read it and had to make myself keep reading. It’s not a novel I just had to know what happened. I remember the beginning far more than the ending.
The Water Dancer is a combination of intriguing, boring, and well done. To be honest, it’s really hard calling, the beloved writer, Ta-Nehisi Coates’ prose boring, but it was. I thought it dragged on and on at times. Maybe part of it is that I don’t really like fantasy. I’ve never been a huge fan, and this is very much a fantasy novel. Although, I don’t think that has much to do with it. The fantasy bits were interesting and did not overwhelm the plot.
Memorable Quotes “She’d gone from that warm quilt of memory to the cold library of fact.” “I was a man well regarded in slavery, which is to say I was never regarded as a man at all.”
