Luna’s Friday Takeover | Keeping Our Lanterns Lit in the Year of the Fire Horse
Content Note:
This post discusses chronic illness, medical frustration, grief, and navigating dismissive healthcare. It also contains cultural reflection, muddy paws, lucky rain, and extremely serious noodles.
Welcome to The Crippled Cryptid.
Disability, chronic illness, service dogs, and survival without the performance.
If you’re new here, hi.
I’m Luna Bean.
Medical alert service dog.
Certified Good Girl™.
Full-time nervous system supervisor.
Mama’s body is dramatic.
My job is to notice before it steals the spotlight.
I alert to migraines.
Seizures.
Heart rate spikes.
Muscle spasms.
Suspicious vibes.
I interrupt spirals.
I apply Deep Pressure Therapy like it’s ceremonial armor.
I retrieve what Mama drops when her hands forget their job description.
Some call me a dog.
Others call me medical equipment.
Mama calls me her freedom.
And when she ignores the red flags her body waves like a parade marshal, I escalate to “Mumther.” Full government name.
No appeal process. No excuses. No buts.
I am a cornerstone of her care team.
There’s also M&M.
Mama #2.
Belly rub distributor. Wardrobe curator. Emotional support human.
She belongs to both of us.
This week?
There was red.
There was food.
There was rain.
There was BALL!
Because it was Lunar New Year. 🧧
And this year is the Year of the Fire Horse. Rare. Bold. Untamable. I respect that energy.
If you’ve been here before, welcome back.
If you’re new, you’re safe here. Always.
Just like Lunar New Year, we celebrate family here at The Den.
Found family, blood relations, and the kind that comes in the form of friendship.
Welcome to the Lunatic Café.
Today’s special: The Service Dingo’s Friday Takeover.
🐾 Morning Rituals & Pawdicure Diplomacy
The morning of the 17th? Elite.
While Mama and Mama #2 were on the phone with Aunt Lise, I conducted extremely important athletic research involving my favorite thing in the entire world. My ball.
The yard heard my name shouted approximately twelve times.
I returned each time triumphant.
Because when it is fifty-four degrees outside in February, especially in Illinois, you play.
You play like your heart demands it. Because it absolutely does.
📸OUTSIDE PLAYTIME
Then.
The Pawdicure.
Because if we are stepping into a new year, we are doing so with tidy toes.
Self-care is not vanity. It is honor. It is initiative.
Some things should be done.
We should take care of ourselves.
It shows respect. It shows readiness.
I rang in the Fire Horse with trimmed claws and unstoppable confidence.
Even Mama #2 got a pawdicure. She painted her nails red. This was correct.
🥟 The Feast of Very Important Noodles
Lunar New Year began on February 17th this year. In Illinois, that meant grocery diplomacy and strategic chopping.
And listen carefully.
There was abundance.
So much abundance that some dishes did not even make it to the first night’s table.
The almost-but-not-quite squad included:
• Xiaolongbao, the soup dumplings
• Shrimp noodle rolls from Trader Joe’s
• Egg rolls for both Mama and Mama #2
• Chow mein stir fry
Because sometimes prosperity means recognizing when the table is already full.
The public holiday runs for seven days, ending on the 23rd, which just so happens to be Mama’s birthday. Celebrations traditionally stretch for sixteen days though, so you already know we are honoring leftovers like royalty.
What did grace the table:
• Prawn har gow
• Pork, scallop, and shrimp shumai
• Pork and green onion steamed bao
• Homemade savory crab rangoons (not traditional Chinese but, they still deserve a seat at the table, and Mama said that Mama #2 did amazing with both the filling and the folding.)
• Chinese veggie soup
• Teriyaki chicken and veggie hibachi style fried rice
• Botan rice candy
• Tempura shrimp courtesy of Mama’s older brother, Matthew, newly promoted to “The Compass” now that I have decided he is not, in fact, evil
• Fish. Beautiful, symbolic fish. For me, of course.
Fish symbolizes abundance and prosperity for the new year.
I personally accept prosperity in chew and ball form.
There were mooncakes too. Technically more common during Mid-Autumn Festival. Practically speaking, Costco stocks them once a year and gremlin brain said acquire. We respect pastry logic.
Dinner was glorious.
📸 CHINESE NEW YEAR FEAST
🌧 Lucky Rain & Hibachi Theater
In the evening, Mama took the fried rice outside to the Blackstone to become hibachi-style fried rice. The best kind.
And then the sky started spitting rain.
Not a storm. Just a gentle, dramatic mist.
We learned that rain during Lunar New Year symbolizes abundance and the washing away of bad luck from the previous year.
So, Mama stood there, spatula in hand, lightly blessed by atmospheric prosperity, listening to the soft percussion of rain against the screened-in porch while making fried rice. I watched.
The rice sizzled.
The lanterns glowed.
The year reset.
🏮On Being Guests, Not Owners
In this house, we celebrate Lunar New Year with gratitude and care.
Mama #2 carries Iroquois and Métis heritage, and there are long migration histories that trace Indigenous peoples of the Americas back to Asia. That history matters to our family story.
But connection does not equal ownership.
And we will never claim that it does.
Celebration does not require DNA. It requires respect.
We celebrate as guests.
Grateful ones.
We use proper names for foods because names matter.
Curiosity is welcome.
Disrespect is not.
Traditions are living things.
We approach them carefully.
We light lanterns with intention, not entitlement.
And if we get something wrong, we are willing to learn and do better.
As we should.
🧧 Red, Ritual & Candlelight
Candles were lit.
M&M created a beautiful display.
Red for Bear.
Red for the Fire Horse.
Yellows. Orange. Pink. White.
Warmth layered in wax and flame.
No laundry.
No hair washing.
No hair cutting.
We do not rinse good fortune down the drain.
Mama wore her red Dungeons and Dragons hoodie with the dragon design on the back.
Mama #2 wore a beautiful floral dress and looked radiant.
I wore red too.
If Bear were here, he would have worn his red sweater.
There is still a quiet space where his snore used to live.
I check it sometimes. Just in case.
📸 A FAMILY PHOTO OF COURSE
Because Lunar New Year is a time to remember and honor family that is no longer here, we also lit white candles for them. The ones who deserve to be remembered because they will always have a seat at our table.
Mourning has no set date on a calendar. Please be mindful and kind.
🐾 False Spring & Mud Season Diplomacy
Illinois has entered Act I of False Spring. Mama calls it Mud Season.
Fifties. A few sixties. Sunshine pretending it plans to stay.
I have been outside with my ball, chasing it around the yard like it owes me money.
I return looking like I negotiated directly with the swamp. I am always disappointed when told it is time to come inside.
Then it is the new routine:
Paws washed.
Sweater changed.
Floor mopped.
Repeat.
Then, on Wednesday, I went into heat for the second time ever.
It will be my last.
The Big Snip is scheduled.
And before you ask why it was not done sooner, the answer is simple.
The vet told Mama and Mama #2 that bigger dogs and working dogs should not be fixed until they are either two years old or have gone through two cycles. That is when bones are fully fused and done growing.
Mama and Mama #2 do not play around when it comes to my health. They trust the vet. They keep me away from unfixed male dogs, and any other dog that they do not know personally, and do not trust.
No puppies here. Thank you very much.
In preparation for this dramatic chapter, I acquired a new sweater from Petco when the Instacart people arrived.
Gray.
“Love” written on the back.
Snoopy carrying Valentines.
I look devastatingly adorable.
Treats have been secured.
Affection levels are maxed.
Ball play will continue weather permitting.
Because Mama says that if I still want to play, I get to play. Going into heat is not my fault. I will never be punished for it.
It just means doggie diapers inside. Supervised yard time outside. Safety first.
And if I want to skip work and be a snuggly couch potato? Mama is 100% on board.
Even service dogs are allowed sick days.
I lucked out in the Mama department. Not everypuppy is so lucky.
🧠 Health Update: Glue & Determination
Mama is still recovering from her three-day EEG on the 6th. The adhesive made her scalp furious. Inflamed. Tender. Scabby.
And yet she braided her hair for Lunar New Year anyway.
She is stubborn in a way that bends reality slightly.
This week she has also been making phone calls. So many phone calls.
She wants new doctors.
Some question whether she really needs a service dog.
They do not understand what I do or how I help.
Some question diagnoses that have already been clinically documented.
Others say, “Come back in six months.” Or “Come back in a year and we will talk more then.”
Six months is a long time when your nervous system runs like a faulty alarm system.
We are not asking for miracles.
We are asking for care that listens.
Care that treats Mama like she is more than just a medical file.
Care that looks at the person in front of them.
If you have ever been dismissed in a medical office, you are not dramatic. You are not difficult. You are not exaggerating your own body.
You deserve providers who respect your lived reality.
Good thing she has me.
And Mama #2.
🐾 Where We Are Now
Lanterns lit.
Candles steady.
Rice blessed by rain.
Toes trimmed.
Sweater acquired.
Big Snip scheduled.
I remain on duty.
Snugglebug.
Breath monitor.
Professional interrupter of nonsense.
If today asked too much of you, it is okay to rest.
You do not have to earn care.
You do not have to prove pain.
You do not have to be productive to be worthy.
Family means staying. Even when things are complicated.
I will be right here.
Watching Mama’s breathing.
Listening for the quiet shifts.
Ready to ground, alert, or curl up.
If you want to spoil me, Mama did make me an Amazon Wishlist.
No expectations. Ever.
Just there for people who like sending love in chew toy or ball form.
Until next Friday,
Luna 🐾
May your year be abundant like fish in clear water.
May prosperity swim toward you.
May your treats be plentiful, your lanterns bright,
and may you always find your way home. 🐟🏮
(on behalf of Mama, Luna Bean, and Mama #2)
© The Crippled Cryptid
Disability. Honesty. A little chaos.
Absolutely dog fur and puppy love.
🔗 https://linktr.ee/skylanarissa
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