The Week the Universe Said, “You Really Think So?”

Case File Tags:
Cryptid Dispatch, Life Updates, Disability, Chronic Illness, Dogs, Luna, Binka, M&M, Home Life, Puppy Chaos, Ordinary Adventures, Survival, Family Life

Content Note:
This week’s Dispatch discusses migraines, disability and fatigue, dog accidents, feces, bathing a dog after rolling in feces, frustration surrounding pet behavior, and difficult experiences involving a former home for Luna. Nothing graphic is described in detail, but there is definitely some poop. You’ve been warned. 💩

📡 Cryptid Dispatch Incoming…

Welcome back to the field.

This is The Crippled Cryptid reporting from somewhere between Home Base, the orange Jeep, Bed Jail™, and whatever location today’s adventure has dragged us into.

Because around here, “adventure” is a pretty flexible term.

Sometimes it’s a road trip.

Sometimes it’s a family dinner.

Sometimes it’s finding a new place to eat and immediately deciding it has altered your personality.

Sometimes it’s a trip to the grocery store that somehow produces three stories, two questionable purchases, and a dog who has decided the entire expedition was about her.

And sometimes… we just got out of the house.

Which counts.

Luna is usually on field duty.

Professional Service Dingo™.

Chief Supervisor.

Keeper of the Important Human.

Binka is the junior cryptid, a title he has accepted with absolutely no humility.

M&M is Player Two, expedition partner, occasional voice of reason, and the person who will probably ask whether I remembered everything before we leave.

The Yard Yeti remains stationed somewhere around Home Base, presumably guarding the Wi-Fi and waiting for the day that I become a famous author and finally have to make good on the Impala promise.

The field team is assembled.

The snacks are secured.

The Jeep is fueled.

The cryptid has been released into the wild.

So… what happened this week?

That’s what we’re here to document.

The appointments.

The adventures.

The little wins.

The weird detours.

The unexpected moments that somehow become stories.

The things that make me laugh.

The things that make me think.

The things that remind me that even when life is complicated, there is still a life happening inside it.

These are the field notes.

Welcome to the Cryptid Dispatch.

Let’s see where we ended up this time.

🛌 The Week That Started With “Nope.”

I think it’s fair to say that I’m having one of those weeks where you just wake up, look at the clock, say, “Nope,” roll over, and go back to bed half the time.

This is just one of those weeks.

Because just when I thought the week was going to be gentle, kind, and not knock me directly into the ground, the universe apparently looked at me and said:

“Bitch, you really think so, don’t you?”

And honestly?

Fair.

Sunday should have been a quiet day around here.

I spent most of the weekend quietly in bed, watching Silo.

Well…

Most of Silo.

M&M and I went from Episode 4 of Season 3, where we’d left off, all the way through Episode 8, which is where we’re caught up now.

Because the migraine monster was playing passenger problem.

And just when I thought I was making some good progress on revamping the blog, putting the final touches on this week’s preorder, and working on Night Blooming Flowers…

Something happened.

Something smelled.

Something smelled really, really bad.

💩 The Case of the Mysterious Poop

I was sitting at the back table in the back room when it hit me.

That smell.

You know the one.

The unmistakable “someone did not make it to the bathroom”smell.

Especially when you have a puppy.

Puppies are basically toddlers with four legs and significantly less interest in explaining themselves.

Sometimes they’re running around, playing, doing all kinds of fun things, and their brains haven’t quite communicated with their digestive systems quickly enough.

Binka is twelve weeks old.

He makes it to the door most of the time.

And that isn’t me saying that to shame him.

Absolutely not.

At twelve weeks old, he’s doing remarkably well, and every day the number of accidents inside the house gets smaller.

But when I looked around the back room… there was no poop.

I looked outside the back door, thinking maybe he’d gone right outside, and I was simply smelling it from there.

Nothing.

I was actively starting to gaslight myself. Maybe I was smelling things that weren’t actually there.

The dogs had been gated into the back room because I’d given them lick mats and messy treats, and I didn’t want any of that dragged into the carpeted living room.

Still nothing.

And then I noticed something.

Luna wouldn’t look at me.

Oh no.

Luna.

When Luna was a baby, she had a horrible habit of rolling in poop outside.

She hadn’t done it since Bear died, and we’d genuinely thought she’d finally outgrown it.

Apparently, Luna had other plans.

Because there it was.

Down her back.

In her ears.

All over her collar.

Coating her Fi collar.

Everywhere.

Green.

Runny.

Foul.

And somehow, the strangest part was that neither dog had been having stomach problems.

Their own poops had been normal.

So, we have absolutely no idea whose poop it was.

Believe me, I went outside and stalked them for the rest of the day when they pooped to double check and make sure it wasn’t either of them… and it wasn’t.

The neighbor’s dogs have had some questionable poops lately, and because they routinely get into our front yard despite repeated complaints, they’re the obvious suspects.

Especially considering we’ve had previous incidents involving their dogs’ waste mysteriously ending up on our property.

But unless Luna starts wearing a tiny detective hat and producing evidence, we’re never going to know for sure.

So, Sunday went from:

“Let’s quietly recover from this migraine.”

to:

“Congratulations, Luna. It’s bath day.”

🛁 Bath Day: The Luna Edition

Luna went first.

And if you don’t know this about Luna, let me introduce you to one of her greatest nemeses:

The Bath.

She hates them.

I don’t know why.

We’ve never personally done anything to make her afraid of them, so we’ve always wondered whether something happened in her first home.

Maybe she wasn’t bathed regularly.

Maybe she had a bad experience with water.

Maybe somebody handled her poorly around bath time.

We don’t know.

And we never will.

We don’t talk to those people anymore, and we have absolutely no intention of ever seeing them again.

Especially after they eventually asked for Luna back under the guise of wanting her for their child, only for it to become clear that they were interested in using her as a breeding tool.

When they learned she had been spayed, they cut contact.

And that told me everything I needed to know.

(Not like I was going to give our girl back anyway.)

But regardless of why she hates baths… she needed one. Desperately.

A very thorough one.

She needed her flea and tick shampoo, and she needed to be scrubbed from head to tail.

M&M took on the Luna Bath Battle.

Because before that, Blitz and I had been having a very good training session. And according to M&M, the baby didn’t deserve to be crated for something his sister did wrong.

And I find this to be very reasonable.

Luna objected to this arrangement with the full force of a creature who has apparently been personally betrayed by the existence of soap suds.

Binka and I could hear M&M loudly complaining at Luna, who did not want to get into the tub or cooperate down the hall while we played with one of his little tennis balls.

But eventually… she was clean.

🐄 Then Came the Junior Cryptid

And because we were already bathing one dog…

Binka got his turn.

Thankfully, Binka is basically the exact opposite of Luna.

He likes water.

He likes baths.

He is curious about everything.

Everything is new.

Everything is interesting.

Everything is apparently worth investigating with his entire face.

So, I changed into a bathing suit, sat down in the bottom of the tub, and scrubbed the tiny beast with his flea and tick shampoo.

Then came the oatmeal dog soap to leave him nice and soft afterward.

By the time we were finished, he was exhausted.

Once he was dry, and I was changed into pajamas, we climbed into bed and he curled up with us for a nap.

Pets.

Belly scratches.

Ear scritches.

One-on-one time with his mamas.

Well… technically two-on-one.

And honestly?

He deserved it.

❤️ Correction Doesn’t Mean Fear

This is something I want to make very clear.

We do not use baths as a scare tactic.

We do not use them as punishment.

The goal is never to make either dog afraid of us.

Especially Luna.

If a behavior needs to be corrected, the correction happens in the moment.

Then we move forward.

Because I want my dogs to understand boundaries without ever wondering whether the people who love them are going to hurt them.

That distinction matters to me.

Luna rolling in poop was not something I could simply ignore.

It was frustrating.

It was gross.

It meant bathing an entire dog when I was already trying to recover from a migraine.

And yes… sometimes it made me want to sit down in the middle of the bathroom floor and question every decision that led me to that moment.

But frustration isn’t a reason to make a dog afraid.

It isn’t a reason to make them feel unsafe.

And it isn’t a reason to withdraw love.

We can say:

“That behavior isn’t acceptable.”

while also saying:

“You are still safe here.”

Those two things can exist at the same time.

And after the bath, that’s exactly what we did.

Luna got clean.

She got some quiet time to settle down.

And we moved on.

Because the goal isn’t to punish her forever for making one terrible decision.

The goal is to teach her what we expect and help her make a better decision next time.

🍖 Somehow, Dinner Still Happened

And because life doesn’t stop being life just because your dog has turned herself into a biohazard… we still made ribs on Sunday.

Homemade mashed potatoes.

Everything.

Luna may have ruined my afternoon, but she wasn’t going to ruin dinner too.

Sometimes that’s what you do.

You salvage the day.

You make the potatoes.

You eat the ribs.

You keep going.

And then Monday happened.

Which brought us… chicken legs.

🍗 M&M’s Chicken Leg Magic

M&M made magic with chicken legs.

I couldn’t tell you exactly what she does.

She puts approximately every spice in the house on them, rubs them down with olive oil, and then I bake them at 350°F for almost an hour.

By the time they’re done?

Juicy.

Tender.

Crispy skin.

Absolutely ridiculous.

Add corn and some spaetzle and everybody is happy.

Well…

Almost everybody.

Luna didn’t get treats Sunday due to the poopnado.

Or Monday.

Because Monday morning, during what would normally be the time that the dogs get breakfast, and afterwards we do our training, she decided it would be a fantastic idea to steal Binka’s breakfast despite having her own.

And before we go any further, let me make one thing very clear:

This wasn’t a case of two dogs being given identicalbowls of food and one dog deciding she wanted the other dog’s dinner.

These dogs have different feeding needs.

Binka is a giant-breed puppy.

He is on a specific puppy formula, he eats three smaller meals throughout the day, and he eats from a slow feeder because we are deliberately trying to keep him from inhaling his food.

Luna is an adult dog.

She is on her own large-breed formula, receives her own pre-portioned amount, and her food is also divided into three meals throughout the day.

So no, I don’t know why Luna decided to steal his food.

Maybe she wanted his food.

Maybe she saw an opportunity.

Maybe she simply made a bad decision.

Dogs don’t exactly provide us with incident reports afterward.

What I do know is that she had already been fed.

She had her own food.

And Binka needed his breakfast.

His breakfast wasn’t hers.

And it wasn’t his job to surrender it to her.

In the minute and a half that it took me to step from the back room to the kitchen, she had wolfed down her own breakfast at the speed of light while I was making my iced coffee three steps away in the kitchen and apparently, decided that it would be a great idea to bully Blitz out of his yellow slow feeder and away from his own breakfast.

Something that hadn’t actually happened before.

I tried correcting her in the moment.

I tried taking it from her, but by the time I’d gotten back over the baby/dog gate and grabbed the slow feeder, the damage was done.

Eighty-five percent of his breakfast was gone. Just like that…

And suddenly, she had eaten not only her pre-portioned breakfast but his also.

She was still corrected.

He was given a pouch of wet puppy food.

And she was put in the other room, where she could not, in fact, steal his food a second time.

And that is one behavior I’m not willing to tolerate.

🐕 Food Rules in the Cryptid Household

Hear me out.

Because I know people have different opinions about this.

I never allowed Luna to steal food from Bear when he was alive.

There was no:

“Aww, it’s okay. She’s just a baby.” when it came to food stealing.

There wasn’t then, and there won’t be now.

Because some things?

Yes.

He’s a baby.

He’s twelve weeks old.

He’s been on the planet for approximately five minutes.

Loose-leash walking?

Learning.

Potty training?

Learning.

Figuring out how to exist in a house with three humans and another dog?

Learning.

There are plenty of things where the answer is:

“It’s okay, he’s just a baby. He’ll learn.”

Food stealing is not one of them.

Fuck no.

We are not going to casually allow food stealing because he’s cute.

We are not going to laugh it off because he’s a puppy.

And we are absolutely not going to create a situation where stealing another dog’s food becomes a successful behavior.

Because I am not interested in breeding food aggression or resource guarding behaviors into either of my dogs.

That means we’re going to teach the boundary now.

Not later.

Not when he’s older.

Now.

And that’s the same standard Luna had when she was learning.

Even though she was only seven months old and Bear was eleven years old.

And that is a huge distinction that needs to be made.

Especially because Luna is almost three years old, and Binka is only three months old.

They are not at the same developmental stage.

They do not have the same nutritional requirements.

They do not have the same feeding parameters.

And they don’t eat the same food.

I didn’t allow Bear to steal from Luna.

So, I’m not going to allow Blitzø to steal Luna’s food.

And I’m not going to allow Luna to steal Blitzø’s food.

Food belongs to the dog it was given to.

That’s the rule.

But here’s the important part:

We don’t use food deprivation as punishment.

Our dogs always have access to their regular food and water.

And this is a huge distinction right now, especially because Blitzø is on Diamond Naturals Chicken and Pea Formula Puppy kibble (also known as the Kirkland Chicken & Pea Puppy Kibble if you buy from Costco), and Luna is on Diamond Naturals Large Breed Lamb & Rice kibble (also known as the Kirkland Lamb & Rice Large Dog Kibble if you buy from Costco.)

Each one is formulated for a different stage of life, with different feeding instructions from our vets.

Maybe someday, when they’re eating the same formula and Binka isn’t a giant-breed puppy with very specific feeding parameters, I’ll be a little less anal about who gets which stray kibble.

But right now?

This is just how it’s gotta be.

What changes is whether they get extra rewards after a behavior.

If one of them steals another dog’s treat, we don’t immediately hand them another treat because they happen to look adorable afterward.

Because yes.

They are adorable.

They are also criminals.

Both things can be true.

Little things are corrected in the moment.

If Binka has an accident, we take him outside and show him where we want him to go.

If necessary, we clean up the mess and reinforce the correct bathroom location.

If one dog steals another dog’s food or treats, we intervene, separate them if necessary, and make sure the behavior doesn’t become a successful strategy.

And then?

We reset.

Because I don’t want a dog walking around the house hours later wondering why everybody suddenly hates them.

They don’t need to understand a clock.

They need to understand the humans who love them.

That’s the part that matters.

🌱 Redemption Is Part of the Lesson

Something else matters just as much.

Redemption exists here.

If they make a mistake, that doesn’t become their identity.

They’re not a bad dog.

They’re a dog who did something we don’t allow.

Those are very different things.

And the first thing we do is comfort them. (After they aren’t covered in poop.)

Then we correct the behavior.

Because I want both dogs to know that they’re loved.

That they’re safe.

That their humans aren’t going to hurt them.

That making a mistake doesn’t mean they’ve lost their place in this family.

Boundaries matter.

So does safety.

So does trust.

And frankly, after everything some animals have been through before they found their way into our homes…

I think that’s worth protecting.

📅 What’s Coming Up?

Do I think there are going to be any giant adventures this week?

Not really.

But who knows.

There is still Thursday Market for the Yard Yeti.

Saturday Markets start back up this week too, which means my sleep schedule is about to get significantly worse.

But you know what?

Friday means another episode of Silo.

So at least I have that.

And somewhere between markets, sleep deprivation, blog work, puppy chaos, and whatever nonsense the universe decides to throw at us…

there may be something fun waiting around the corner.

I guess we’re just going to have to wait and see.

👻 From One Cryptid to Another

And that’s this week’s field report.

Maybe it was a big adventure.

Maybe it was a tiny one.

Maybe it was nothing more glamorous than getting out of the house, accomplishing one thing, and making it home with enough energy left to collapse somewhere soft.

It still counts.

Because I’m learning that adventure doesn’t have to be enormous to be real.

Sometimes it’s a new restaurant.

A family dinner.

A trip down a road I’ve never taken before.

A ridiculous little roadside attraction.

A pup cup.

A muddy paw print on the deck.

A sunset from the driveway.

A story that begins with:

“So, we left the house…”

And somehow becomes an entire blog post.

That’s the kind of life I want to document.

Not the polished version.

Not the version where every day is productive and every outing is inspirational and everybody has enough spoons.

The actual version.

The messy.

The mundane.

The unexpectedly wonderful.

The days when my body cooperates.

The days when it absolutely does not.

The days when Luna is working.

The days when Binka is being a giant baby-shaped tornado.

The days when M&M is beside me.

The days when the Yard Yeti is back at Home Base, probably still waiting on his Impala.

All of it belongs in the record.

Because life isn’t only made of milestones.

It’s made of Tuesdays.

Ordinary days.

Little victories.

Side quests.

Unexpected detours.

And after everything I’ve lived through…

I’ve learned not to underestimate an ordinary day.

So, if you’re reading this from your own little corner of the chaos:

Drink some water.

Eat something.

Rest if you need to.

Take the win, even if it looks ridiculously small from the outside.

And if you managed to get out there and collect a story this week?

Tell me about it.

The Cryptid Dispatch is always accepting field reports.

Until next Tuesday…

🖤 Sky

Disability. Honesty. A little chaos.

Occasionally field-tested.

📡 Field report complete.

© The Crippled Cryptid

Disability. Honesty. Survival without the performance.

🔗 https://linktr.ee/skylanarissa

No pressure to donate. Reading, sharing, and existing alongside me is already enough.

If you want to support the long, unglamorous work of survival and mobility:

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