Content Note:
Discussion of chronic illness, disability, medical alert service work, mobility struggles, seizures, migraines, and emotional health.
Gentle post. Cozy chaos included.

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 very dramatic.
My job is to notice before it steals the spotlight.

I alert to migraines.
Seizures.
Heart rate spikes.
Muscle spasms.
And any vibes suspicious enough to deserve a second opinion.

I interrupt spirals.
I apply Deep Pressure Therapy like it’s a sacred ritual.

Because you know what? It is.
I’m learning to retrieve things Mama drops when hands stop cooperating.

Some call me a dog.
Others call me medical equipment.

Mama says that I have “main character energy” whatever the fluff that means.

I consider myself a very important partner.
Maybe even a sidekick.

Most days move slowly. Some happen from Bed Jail™.
That’s okay. I’m excellent at staying close and making sure Mama doesn’t drift too far away from herself.

There’s also M&M.

Mama #2.
Belly rub-giver.
Treat-giver.
Emotional support human.

Sweater and bandana curator.

She belongs to both of us.

This space is for chronic illness without shame.
Disability without performance.
Care without conditions.

(And yes. There will be fur.)

If you’ve been here before, welcome back.
If you’re new, you’re safe here.

Welcome to the Lunatic Café.

🐾 On Today’s Menu: Friday Takeover!

Hi, hello! Sit, stay.
Good human!

It is I, Luna Bean. 🐾

Have you eaten today? Drank water?

Do not be like Mama. No, coffee is not a meal. Don’t worry, I checked.

If not, go ahead and do that first, then come back.
Don’t worry. I’ll wait.

Mama says I’m very, very good at waiting.

Personally, I think I deserve awards for it.

This past week has been The Busiest™.

I know I say that a lot, but this time I really mean it.

This past week was my 2-year adoptiversary… and Mama, Mama #2, and the Yard Yeti did everything they could to make it absolutely perfect.

Even though I didn’t need perfect.

Just having them is enough.

🍪 Adoptiversary Week Shenanigans

There were cookies from Reese’s Barkery.
My favorite place.

Mama and Mama #2 made me salmon on the 11th, which was my actual adoptiversary.

And I got a brand new ball.

Mama and Mama #2 wrapped it up for me, and I got to unwrap it myself while the Yard Yeti supervised the operation.

It was VERY serious business.

🖊 Mama Note:
She absolutely understood that the ball was wrapped for her.
I’ve never seen anyone unwrap a present with that much emotional commitment.

Afterward, the Yard Yeti threw the ball for me approximately one thousand times.
Maybe more.

Science cannot currently measure this.

I did briefly try to trade my new ball for a meatball.

Negotiations failed.

I remain disappointed.

🖊 Mama Note:
She ate the salmon like a tiny woodland cryptid returning victorious from battle.

Honestly? Fair.

🍝 Meatballs, GrandPAWs, & Backyard Diplomacy

Last Sunday, Mama’s new dad came over.

Mama has already made the joke that he’s a GrandPAW now, which probably means I’m legally obligated to get him a t-shirt for Christmas.

But he gives me butt pats, throws my ball, and calls me a pretty girl. So I love him, and he may have the Grandpaw t-shirt.

He came over to spend time with us, throw my ball, and hang out while Mama and Mama #2 made dinner.

Mama makes the homemade sauce.

Mama #2 makes the meatballs.

Everyone loves Mama #2’s meatballs.

Including me.

Especially me.

The house smelled warm and safe and happy in the way it always does when people you love are sitting around the kitchen talking while dinner cooks.

🖊 Mama Note:
Luna has decided that anyone who throws the ball consistently earns immediate family status.

🌭 The Jeremy Visit Cookout Chronicles

Then Monday, our friend Jeremy came to visit from out of town.

We got to spend a few hours together, and the backyard turned into Cookout Territory™.

Mama grilled hot dogs and Dr. Pepper bratwurst.

There were cheese fries.
Chili cheese fries.

Many smells.

Many opportunities for me to supervise.

I took my responsibilities very seriously.

Mostly by laying directly where everyone needed to walk.

And then they played Mario Party Jamboree.

🚙 Enter: The Mojave Orange Jeep Era

Then Tuesday happened.

Tuesday was wild.

Mama got a new car.

A Mojave Orange Jeep Renegade.

WE’RE MOBILE AGAIN.

Which means adventures.
Sniffaris.
Drive-thru french fry negotiations.
PUP-CUPS.

Possibilities.

🖊 Mama Note:
Chronic illness can make your world smaller without warning.
Getting mobile again means more than errands and appointments.
It means possibility came back through the front door.

Mama cried a little after she got home.

Not sad crying.

Relief crying.

I stayed close for that part.

That’s one of my jobs too.

🌿 Tomorrow’s Plans

Tomorrow, Mama and Mama #2 are going to The Pec thing with Mama’s dad and her stepmom. She’s coming to terms with the new names for our new Pack.

I am apparently not invited.

Rude.

Honestly… all teasing aside. I don’t mind.

I like staying home sometimes.

🖊 Mama Note:

To be fair, it isn’t that she’s not invited. Service animals are allowed at the event. But since we have been without wheels for 7-months I don’t want her first time doing public access again to be something SO busy.

Also, that’s a ton of walking in a strange place- and it’s going to be super overstimulating for my Bean.

I’ll probably spend the day snoozing on the couch and watching birbs out the window until they come home.

Then I plan to side-eye everyone into giving me cookies, telling me I’m a good girl, and hopefully making chicken appear for dinner through the power of emotional manipulation.

Mama says I’m very talented at that.

🐾 Before I Go…

Thanks for staying with us.

If something here felt familiar, you’re not alone.

If today asked too much of you, it’s 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.

I’ll be right here.

Watching Mama’s breathing.
Listening for the quiet shifts.
Ready to interrupt, ground, or curl up nearby as needed.

If you want to spoil me, Mama did make me an Amazon Wishlist.

No expectations. Ever.

Mama always worries about asking for help, so I’m asking instead.

Reading, sharing, and sitting with us here already means more than you know.

🖊 Mama Note:
Watching Luna become herself over these last two years has changed all of us for the better.

Until next Friday,

Luna 🐾
(on behalf of Mamas)

© The Crippled Cryptid
Disability. Honesty. A little chaos.
(Absolutely dog fur and puppy love.)

🔗 https://linktr.ee/skylanarissa

No pressure to donate. Reading and sharing count.

If you’d like to support the long, unglamorous work of survival and mobility:

💜 https://www.gofundme.com/f/support-skys-journey-to-health-and-mobility