🐾 Luna Bean’s Friday Takeover: Adoptiversary Week Edition

Content Notes

Chronic illness, disability, migraines, fatigue, grief mentions involving a beloved pet, service dog discussion, medical themes, emotional caregiving themes, rainy weather complaints from a deeply inconvenienced Service Dingo™.

Welcome Back to the Den

The lights are a little warmer this week.

The floors are a little louder with paws.

There’s a presence here you’ve probably felt before.

But this time?

She’s taking center stage.

Right where she belongs.

And by she…

I mean me.

Obviously.

Hi, hello.

Welcome back to the Den.

I’m Luna Bean.

Professional Service Dingo™.

Medical alert specialist.

Part-time goblin.

Full-time Mama supervisor.

And this week?

The Den belongs to me.

This is The Crippled Cryptid.

A soft-lit corner of the internet where disability, chronic illness, service dogs, survival, and emotionally important snacks all exist without apology.

If you’re new here, Mama usually does the talking.

You probably know her as Sky.

Professional cryptid.

Unwilling amateur cyborg.

Author.

Advocate.

Collector of migraines and concerning medical terminology.

The woman who somehow survives almost entirely on caffeine, spite, electrolytes, and my supervision. (of course.)

Personally, I think she’d be significantly worse off without me.

And honestly?

I’m right.

Mama lives in what she calls a “haunted meat suit with a suspicious warranty,” which means I spend a lot of my time doing Important Dog Business™ like:

• yelling at her to sit down
• alerting when her body starts acting weird
• forcing her to rest
• following her into every room like a medically necessary cryptid shadow
• and aggressively reminding her that coffee is not a food group

(It isn’t. I checked. Mumther.)

Sometimes Mama ignores her body.

Actually, most of the time Mama ignores her body.

So, I step in.

Very bravely.

Very dramatically.

With the full authority of a dog who absolutely knows better than she does.

Because when you love someone whose body plays real-life roulette with the weather, stress, gravity, and mysterious nonsense…

You learn how to notice things before they do.

That’s my job.

And I’m very good at it.

The Dog Who Chose All of Us

This week is my second Adoptiversary.

Which means two years ago, I found my family.

Mama says she adopted me.

But honestly?

I picked them first.

There’s M&M.

Mama’s best friend, partner, emotional support Moss Maiden, and the person most responsible for sweater and bandana distribution in this household.

She gives excellent belly rubs.

Excellent snacks.

And somehow thinks she gets an equal share of the bed.

Suspicious behavior.

Then there’s the Yard Yeti.

Mama’s little brother. (Even if he is taller than everyone.)

My best friend.

The only human capable of throwing the ball far enough to satisfy my extremely professional athletic standards.

When he yells “Lulus!” across the house, I legally have to sprint at full speed.

It’s the law.

The tail waggies simply cannot be contained.

And then…

There was Bear.

My first teacher.

My first best friend.

The one who showed me how to belong here.

Some dogs teach commands.

Bear taught me how to love a family.

How to stay close.

How to take care of people.

I still think about him sometimes.

I still carry pieces of him with me.

You can tell by the way I handle his toys gently.

By the way I curled up in his bed after he was gone, like I understood it wasn’t just a place to sleep.

It was something being passed down.

How I Became Me

Mama says this week is about celebrating me.

But I think maybe it’s about all of us.

The Den feels different this week.

Softer.

Quieter in some places.

Louder in others.

More blankets.

More movies.

More checking on each other.

Humans forget dogs notice those things.

But we do.

I know when Mama’s hurting before she says anything.

I know when the migraines are bad.

I know when she’s trying to push too hard.

I know when she’s pretending she’s fine because she wants to do something special for me.

And this week?

She’s definitely doing that.

She keeps saying:
“Luna deserves the world.”

Which is sweet.

But also concerning.

Because usually when Mama says things like that, she starts overdoing it immediately afterward.

So, I’ve been supervising extra hard.

📓 Mama Note:
“Supervising” means aggressively herding me toward chairs, beds, water bottles, medication, and occasionally away from stairs.

I’m doing my best.

She’s doing… something.

🐾 Friday Luna Takeover

Okay.

Important weekly updates.

The outside has been deeply offensive lately.

It keeps raining.

Cold rain.

Wet paw rain.

The kind that sneaks between your toe beans and makes the grass feel cursed.

Mama keeps opening the door and saying:
“Go potty, Luna.”

And every single time I step outside I have the exact same response:

Absolutely not.

I would rather hold my bladder hostage than participate in cold rain activities.

I am being very brave about this difficult situation.

📓 Mama Note:
Luna would like everyone to know that “cold rain” means approximately anything below seventy-five degrees and personally inconveniencing her.

I also haven’t gotten to play outside as much as I want because the yard keeps being soggy and weird.

This is devastating news for a professional Ball Goblin such as myself.

The Yard Yeti keeps trying to convince me to run around anyway.

And I want to commit crimes at top speed through the backyard…

…but then the rain touches my feet and suddenly I remember I am delicate.

Tragic, honestly.

The weather has also been making Mama’s body angry.

Which means:

• lots of migraines
• lots of bed days
• lots of me refusing to leave her side
• and lots of “Luna please stop staring at me like that”

No.

I don’t think I will.

Somebody around here has to be responsible.

Thankfully, she currently has both coffee and electrolytes.

Which is the closest thing we get to stability around here.

I’ve also noticed Mama is BIG SAD™ because Monarch: Legacy of Monsters ended.

Friday Night TV Rituals are very important in this house.

We all cuddle together.

There are snacks.

There are blankets.

Sometimes I fall asleep halfway through and start barking in my dreams.

It’s a sacred family event.

Mama says she’s prepared to personally beg Apple TV+ for another season.

I support her emotionally in this endeavor.

But I’m not allowed to give spoilers.

Apparently “service dogs cannot leak television plot details online.”

Very restrictive rules around here.

📓 Mama Note:
The dream woofles or snorts usually happens during action scenes. We think Luna believes she’s helping fight the bad guys.

We also didn’t have any doctor appointments this week.

Which is nice.

No Uber rides.

No weird waiting rooms.

No suspicious medical buildings stealing Mama for hours at a time.

I prefer everyone home where I can monitor them properly.

My biggest current complaint is that we are critically low on peanut butter pies from Reese’s Barkery.

This is unacceptable.

Mama says she’s ordering more today.

So, I guess I can forgive her for almost everything else.

Almost.

📓 Mama Note:
By “critically low,” she means there are still several left.

But honestly?

I’m proud of Mama.

Today was the first day all week she brought her laptop upstairs and sat by the back windows to write in the sunlight for awhile.

That’s a big deal.

Sometimes progress looks huge.

Sometimes progress looks like sitting upright with coffee and opening your laptop after several hard days.

Both count.

I think humans forget that too sometimes.

The Ones Who Stay

Mama says this part is important.

So, listen carefully.

Love the people who stay.

The ones who notice when something’s wrong before you say it out loud.

The ones who sit closer on bad days.

The ones who learn your storms instead of running from them.

The ones who love you gently when your body feels difficult to live in.

Dogs understand that naturally.

Humans are still learning.

But the good ones do learn.

And when they do?

They become part of your pack forever.

Because once upon a time, humans told stories about animals like us.

Guardians.

Protectors.

Companions.

Creatures who stayed beside people in the dark.

Different names.

Same meaning.

You are not alone.

For the Dog Who Found Her Family

Mama says this week is for me.

For the Service Dingo™ who refuses to let her fall apart unattended.

For the little shadow with four paws and too many opinions.

For the dog who arrived quietly…

And changed everything anyway.

Which is very emotional and nice.

But I would also like it officially noted that I deserve extra cookies for my bravery during these rainy conditions.

Thank you for your understanding during this difficult time.

Stay soft.

Stay stubborn.

Stay hydrated.

And if it’s raining outside?

Simply refuse.

Works for me.

🐾 Love you. Say it back.
—Luna Bean
Service Dingo™
Ball Goblin
Guardian of the Den

© The Crippled Cryptid
Disability, honesty, and a little chaos.

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