A pumpkin puppy, a jester dog, a rapidly growing kitten, and a family making room for both memories and new beginnings.

Content notes: Disability and chronic illness, migraine flare-ups, grief and pet loss, the death of a beloved public figure, service-dog misrepresentation, and an encounter involving an aggressive dog. This post also discusses Día de Muertos traditions and remembering a beloved pet.

Welcome to The Crippled Cryptid.

Disability.
Chronic illness.
Service dogs.
Dogs being dogs.
And survival without the performance.

If you’re new here…

Hi!

I’m Luna Bean.

Medical Alert Service Dog.
Certified Good Girl.
Professional Mama Supervisor.
Full-time ball goblin.

And, apparently…

Big Sister. Times two.

I have a lot of jobs.

Some of them are very serious.

I notice changes in Mama’s body.

Migraines.
Seizures.
Heart rate spikes.
Muscle spasms.
The suspicious little shifts that tell me something isn’t right.

I alert.

I interrupt spirals.

I do Deep Pressure Therapy.

I retrieve things when Mama drops them.

I remind her when her body is being difficult.

And when Mama is being difficult, too…

Well.

Sometimes I have to call for Mumther.

That’s what she’s there for.

Mama says I keep an eye on her.

I think Mama needs supervision.

There is a difference.

She gets stubborn.
She says she’s fine.
Sometimes she’s not.

So, I watch.

I listen.

I wait.

And when necessary…

I make the decision for her.

Because that’s my Mama.

She’s my person.

But my world is bigger than Mama.

There’s M&M.

Mama #2.
Treat provider.
Belly rub specialist.
Bandana procurement officer.

In the spring, summer, and fall, she picks out my bandanas. When the weather gets cold, she finds sweaters for me and my baby brother.

She says we need to stay warm.

I allow this.

Mostly.

Especially since it’s getting to be that time of the year now, even if Mama doesn’t want to admit it.

She wants October to last a little longer.

She isn’t ready to move past the Halloween season yet.

So, we’re letting her have her way for a bit longer.

Because we’re a loving family.

And because I know better than to argue with Mama when she’s emotionally attached to a calendar.

Besides, I’m going to be a Jester this weekend, and my baby brother is going to be a pumpkin.

We’ve got a reputation to maintain.

Then there’s the Yard Yeti.

BJ.

Mama’s little brother.
My best friend.

He throws my ball farther than anybody else.

This is an extremely important qualification.

He says “Lulus!” every time he sees me.

Naturally, I respond with maximum bork.

Maximum boing.

Maximum tail.

This is also the law.

Then there’s the orange Jeep.

Mama’s Jeep.

My Jeep.

Okay, technically Mama’s Jeep.

But I am an important passenger.

I like car rides.

I like going places.

I like watching the world happen through the window.

And then…

There’s Blitzø.

My baby brother.
My Potato.
My giant spotted little cow.

He is learning.

I am teaching.

Sometimes I wrestle him.

Sometimes I correct him.

Sometimes I let him follow me around the yard.

Sometimes he touches my toys.

Sometimes he touches my ears.

Sometimes…

I need a break.

I am allowed to need a break.

But he’s Pack.

And he’s my baby brother.

So, I suppose…

I’ll keep him.

He has grown on me.

A little.

And now there’s Biscuits.

Cheddar Bay Biscuits.

My kitten.

Mama #2’s kitten, technically, but he sleeps with me every single night.

So, let’s be honest here.

He’s mine, too.

This little gray floof is growing like a weed. I swear he was tiny five minutes ago, and now he’s getting bigger, fluffier, and more convinced that he belongs wherever I happen to be.

Which… Fine.

He does.

He curls up with me, settles in for the night, and makes himself comfortable like he pays the mortgage.

He doesn’t, obviously.

He’s a cat.

His financial contributions consist of eating, sleeping, making biscuits, and occasionally looking at everyone like we’re disappointing him.

But he’s Pack.

He’s my little gray shadow.

My fuzzy roommate.

My tiny feline responsibility.

And apparently, I’m his favorite place to sleep.

I don’t know how that happened.

I was busy being a service dog and supervising the household when somebody apparently assigned me the position of Big Sister to a kitten.

And now look at me.

Sharing my sleeping space.

Providing security.

Allowing a tiny creature with enormous opinions to take up residence beside me.

Mama says it’s adorable.

Mama takes approximately seventeen thousand pictures.

I suspect this is going to become a problem for my privacy.

But if Biscuits wants to sleep beside me?

He can.

Because he’s my kitten.

And that’s my little brother.

Besides… I sleep better knowing where my Pack is.

Even if one of its members has whiskers, an alarming amount of fluff, and absolutely no understanding of personal space.

Love you, little biscuit.

Now go to sleep.

Some of us have important ball-chasing responsibilities tomorrow.

This Pack has changed.

It’s gotten bigger.

More paws.
More people.
More toys.
More fur.

More reasons to supervise everybody.

But there’s also more love.

And I like that.

A lot.

🐾 Luna’s Main Character Energy

Mama says I have “Main Character Energy.”

Whatever the fluff that means.

She says it a lot.

Usually when I’m doing something important.

Like supervising.

Or chasing my ball.

Or going for walks.

Or sitting dramatically in the middle of the room because everyone else is clearly doing something wrong.

Sometimes she looks at me with that particular face she gets when she’s thinking about a story.

I know that face.

There are apparently… plans.

Really, really big ones.

Mama says some of them involve me.

She won’t tell me everything.

Which is rude.

But I have learned that when Mama starts saying things like “Someday…” and “I have an idea…”

I should probably pay attention.

Because apparently…

I have Main Character Energy.

Whatever the fluff that means.

Personally, I think it means I am very important.

Which is correct.

🐾

Most days around here are pretty quiet.

Sometimes we’re in Bed Jail™.

Sometimes we’re outside.

Sometimes we’re in the Jeep.

Sometimes I’m working.

Sometimes I’m playing.

And sometimes…

I’m chasing the ball for approximately the four hundredth time because apparently nobody else understands that this is my second-biggest purpose in life.

I am many things.

Service dog.
Big sister.
Daughter.
Adventure dog.
Jeep dog.
Ball goblin.
Snack enthusiast.
Professional Good Girl.

But most importantly…

I am Luna.

And this is my Friday.

☕ Welcome Back to the Lunatic Café!

🐾 On today’s menu: Friday Takeover.

Hi! Hello!

It is me, Luna Bean!

If you’ve made it this far, well, then you know what I’m going to say.

And if you’ve come prepared, and you already have your water and a little snacky, then you get a gold star!

If you’re new here and you don’t know, that’s okay, too.

You should probably go get something to drink and a little something to eat if you haven’t yet today.

Because fueling our bodies is an important job.

We take care of ourselves here because we’re worth it.

You never, ever have to earn these things.

Taking care of yourself, basic self-care, and self-love are all things that don’t need to be earned or deserved.

You get them because you’re worth it.

Because you deserve them.

Because running a home, a body, and whatever else life throws at you is hard work.

Because waking up is hard work.

Because surviving the day is hard work.

Because some things shouldn’t have to be earned, and they shouldn’t have to be hard work at all.

Because you, just you, need to know that you have your own back.

Okay?

Okay.

Good.

Now…

Let’s get into this week.

Because this week has been a lot of things.

Some things have been good.

And some have been heavy.

Let’s start with the good things, because Mama says you shouldn’t always start with the bad news.

Bad news makes people sad, and that isn’t why people come here.

We don’t like being sad.

Especially when Mama, Mama #2, and a whole lot of people around the world are already hurting.

At this point, I think a lot of us are looking at 2026 and wondering why the Grim Reaper keeps taking so many of the good ones.

Meanwhile, a certain orange someone in office remains.

GRIM REAPER.

GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER, PLEASE.

Now.

Let’s talk about Halloween.

Because finally, finally, we have something spooky to celebrate.

🎃 Doggy Trick-or-Treating and the Pumpkin Patch

Last Sunday, Mama and Mama #2 took me and Blitzy to the doggy trick-or-treating event at PetSmart.

And it was a lot of fun!

I got to dress up in Bear’s old Jester costume.

Mama #2 wore Mama’s Pennywise the Clown sweater and Loungefly bag, and she did her makeup to match me.

We got lots of treats.

Binka went as a pumpkin, and Mama wore a flannel to be the farmer who grew the pumpkin.

Get it?

A pumpkin dog.

A farmer.

Mama thinks she’s hilarious.

I live with her, so I have to agree with her at least some of the time.

We’re probably wearing the same costumes this Saturday for Halloween, too.

I don’t know if we’re going to get trick-or-treaters, but if we do, they’ll get to see a pumpkin doggy and a Jester doggy.

And Mama?

Mama is going to be Mothman.

She has a Mothman onesie.

She’s very excited about it.

She’s going to be one of the moths that flies around the pumpkin patch late at night.

Still on brand.

Don’t judge us.

We’re silly and spooky in this family, but I think you already know that about us, don’t you?

Mama and Mama #2 will probably be sitting in the living room with us, watching horror movies, playing games, and waiting to give out Rice Krispies treats and candy to anyone who comes by.

I think they’re also going to make little homemade personal pizzas.

Because that sounds like horror-movie food.

At least, that’s what Mama says.

For the most part, though, trick-or-treating was fun.

We got cookies.

We got treats.

Mama #2 got stickers to decorate the house with.

And we got some samples of Honest Kitchen food that I really liked.

Binka?

Not so much.

He’s still learning that not everything has to be chicken-flavored to be worth eating.

We’ll get there.

Probably.

But there was one part of the day that wasn’t so fun.

And it’s something Mama needs to talk about.

🐕 A Serious Note About Service Dogs

There was someone at the event wearing an Amazon service-dog vest who asked whether her dog could say hello to Blitz.

Now, Mama normally tries not to assume that someone is faking a service dog.

There are plenty of reasons a legitimate service dog might not look or behave the way people expect. And there are plenty of people who have invisible disabilities, just like Mama.

Mama knows that firsthand. Gear and breed do not make a service animal.

But this encounter was different.

The woman asked whether her dog could meet Blitz. Mama said that was okay but explained that I was probably the better dog to approach because I’m the service dog and Blitz is still a puppy.

The woman said she’d rather use Blitz because he looked like a puppy and her dog was more comfortable with puppies.

Okay…?

Except Blitz is already bigger than me at just five months old.

And then her pit mix snapped at his face.

Now, let’s make something clear.

This is not an argument against pit mixes or bully breeds.

Those dogs can be wonderful companions.

The problem wasn’t the dog’s breed.

The problem was the handler’s decisions.

The woman allowed a dog that she later acknowledged was not a service dog to be presented as one, and she brought that dog into a public setting where other dogs were present.

She hadn’t warned Mama that her dog might react aggressively.

And when Mama raised concerns about bringing an aggressive dog into a public space, the woman reportedly admitted that she’d bought the vest online so she could take her dog places without being questioned.

She didn’t like having to leave her dog at home.

Mama has very strong feelings about that.

And honestly?

I understand why.

Service dogs aren’t accessories.

They’re not admission tickets.

They’re not a way to get around rules that apply to everyone else.

They’re working animals who perform tasks to help disabled people navigate a world that often wasn’t designed with them in mind.

And when people misrepresent their pets as service animals, it can put legitimate service dogs, their handlers, other members of the public, and even their own animals at risk.

Mama doesn’t want people assuming every disabled person is faking.

She doesn’t want people assuming every dog wearing a vest is legitimate, either.

She wants people to understand that a service dog is defined by its trained work and the assistance it provides, not by a vest purchased online.

And she wants handlers to take responsibility for their animals.

That shouldn’t be a controversial thing to ask.

Unfortunately, it is.

And that’s why Mama gets frustrated.

She has spent so much time working with me, trusting me, and teaching me how to do my job safely.

She knows how much work goes into being a good service-dog team.

And she knows how quickly an encounter with an uncontrolled dog can go wrong.

But here’s the part that made Mama especially proud of Blitz.

Even though the other dog snapped at his face…

Blitzø didn’t escalate.

He didn’t engage.

He didn’t retaliate.

He just looked at the dog while the woman half-dragged her away.

He’s still a puppy.

He doesn’t have the self-control of a fully mature dog.

And because of his size and strength, he could potentially hurt another dog if he reacted without restraint.

Instead, he stayed calm.

He gave Mama a moment to handle the situation.

And he didn’t turn an unpleasant encounter into something worse.

Mama was proud of him.

So, he got extra cookies.

And a special dinner that night.

We both did.

Because days when we get to go on car rides and attend events are special.

And Mama doesn’t want somebody else’s poor decisions to ruin those experiences for us.

We have a good Mama.

She wants us to be safe.

She wants other people and their animals to be safe, too.

And she wants us to be able to enjoy our lives without having to fight for the right to do so.

I think that’s reasonable.

Even if Mama occasionally has to remind herself not to cuss somebody out in the middle of a store.

She’s working on it.

Probably.

🍲 A Quiet Week at Home

The rest of the week has been pretty quiet.

We’ve been staying home and laying low.

The Yard Yeti got sick, so Mama made crockpot chicken soup.

Something everyone in this house loves dearly.

There is nothing quite like Mama making food for the people she loves.

She might grumble about it.

She might be tired.

Her body might be giving her trouble.

But she finds ways to take care of us.

And that means something.

On Wednesday, Mama also went out and picked up a few things for the kitten from a local free group, including rinseless hairball shampoo and some spray to make him smell nice.

She found something from Hempz, the same brand that makes our doggy shampoo.

Biscuits has a whole household of people who are apparently determined to keep him fluffy, clean, and spoiled.

He has no idea how good he has it.

Or maybe he does.

He is a cat, after all.

He probably thinks the entire house belongs to him already.

Mama likes to joke that maybe he remembers what it was like having his ancestors worshipped as Gods in Egypt.

And then there was TV night!

We sadly watched the last couple of episodes of Helluva Boss for the year because this season has been split up into two parts.

I’m not allowed to give any spoilers.

But it’s fair to say Mama, Mama #2, and the Yard Yeti aren’t particularly happy with where things stand right now.

I do like TV nights in the living room with the whole family, though.

So, I’m hoping this means everyone starts getting together to watch Supernatural reruns on the couch again.

It’ll help teach Blitzy how to settle during TV time, and it means I’ll get more time with everyone together instead of spending the whole evening playing.

Not that I don’t love playing.

I do.

But sometimes it’s nice when the whole Pack settles down in one place.

No one needs to be doing anything spectacular.

We can just exist together.

I think that’s one of my favorite things about being part of this family.

🐾 Walky Nights: A New Family Tradition

Also, if you didn’t know, we’re starting a new tradition around here.

Walky nights!

Mama #2 says I need to start losing some weight because I got a little chunky after I was spayed.

Which…I mean.

RUDE.

FAIR.

But still… rude.

And Blitzy needs to learn how to walk nicely on his leash and harness without trying to remove somebody’s arm from its socket.

Those are Mama’s words, not mine.

Even if I agree with them.

Sometimes that’s just what you do when you’re living in a house with a puppy.

You change the way you teach them things.

You find new routines.

You work together.

And you go on more walkies.

Honestly, I don’t mind.

Walks were one of Bear’s favorite things.

He used to love walking down to the park and barking at the ducks while I played with my ball.

So maybe that’s what we’ll do from now on.

Maybe I’ll convince Mama to bring a ball with us.

Maybe we’ll walk for a while, play a little, and let Blitz learn how to be a good walking buddy.

Maybe we’ll make a whole bunch of good memories.

Because that’s something Mama said she wanted this year.

Good memories.

Not perfect days.

Not a life where nothing goes wrong.

Just good memories.

Little things we can look back on and smile about.

Things that remind us that even when life is difficult, there’s still room for something good.

And goodness knows…

2026 has taken enough from us already.

🕯️ When the Week Gets Heavy

This is where we need to file some complaints.

On Thursday, after we got off the phone with Aunt Lise, we found out that one of Mama’s favorite actors had passed away.

Patrick Stewart.

He played so many roles throughout his life, but Mama will always remember him as Professor Charles Xavier.

Mama #2 knew him from Star Trek.

Two different fandoms.

One very sad household.

Even the Yard Yeti was upset by the news.

Blitzy and I stayed upstairs with Mama #2 while she cried.

Mama sat downstairs alone, finishing her nails and yelling at the void.

Because Thursday was also her grandma’s 77th birthday.

Only Grandma wasn’t here to celebrate it.

She’s in heaven now.

With Bear.

We didn’t get to meet her Grandma but… I like to think that we would have liked her.

And that is a lot of grief to carry in one day.

Sometimes grief doesn’t wait for you to have the energy to deal with it.

Sometimes it shows up when you’re already tired.

Sometimes it arrives alongside a migraine, a difficult week, and the realization that another person whose work meant something to you is gone.

Sometimes it comes with a birthday on the calendar that you still want to celebrate, even though the person you’re celebrating isn’t here anymore.

And sometimes all you can do is sit there, finish painting your nails, and yell at the universe.

I think that’s okay.

You don’t have to make grief pretty.

You don’t have to turn every difficult feeling into a lesson.

Sometimes it just hurts.

And you get through it however you can.

Speaking of Bear…

Mama #2 made him an ofrenda this year.

We aren’t part of Mexican culture, but after learning about Día de Muertos and the tradition of honoring loved ones who have passed away, she wanted to make something special for him.

We learned a little more about the tradition and wanted to approach it with love and respect.

So, on the back table, she set up a little space for Bear.

His favorite leash, arranged in the shape of a heart.

One of his favorite cookies.

One of our favorite Rae Dunn coffee cups, the one with a ghost inside that says “her boo,” filled with water. As well as a beautiful red candle that she’d picked out with care.

And his favorite bandana, decorated with leaves and marigolds.

It wasn’t about pretending that we could undo what happened.

It wasn’t about pretending that we weren’t hurting.

It was about making a space for him.

A space where we could remember him.

A space where his things could be together.

A space where we could acknowledge that he was part of this family, that he mattered, and that he still does.

We have been thinking about him a lot since he passed away a year ago on October 28.

One year.

It doesn’t feel possible sometimes.

Mama still misses him.

Mama #2 still misses him.

We all do.

And I think having something tangible to put together, something that lets us express that love, has meant a lot to Mama #2.

There is something comforting about being able to do something with grief.

Even when that something is small.

Even when all you can do is put a few things on a table and sit with the memories.

Love doesn’t disappear when someone dies.

It changes shape.

It becomes photographs.

Old toys.

Favorite treats.

Stories that get told over and over again.

The things you keep because you can’t bear to part with them.

The things you do because you want to make sure the world knows that this person, this animal, this little piece of your life mattered.

Bear mattered.

He still matters.

And we will keep finding ways to love him.

Mama has also been dealing with more migraines lately, and I suspect all the stress and grief haven’t helped.

Her body has a way of reminding her that it keeps score, even when she’d rather get on with things.

So, we’ve been taking things slowly.

Doing what we can.

And trying to remember that rest is allowed.

Even during a week when there’s so much to do.

Even during a week when Halloween is almost here.

Even during a week when Mama really, really wants to be a spooky little Mothman and enjoy every second of her favorite holiday.

Because you can love Halloween and still be sad.

You can look forward to something and still be exhausted.

You can have a good day and miss someone terribly.

All of those things can exist together.

They don’t cancel each other out.

🎃 One More Thing Before Halloween

Today, Mama and Mama #2 are at the food pantry, volunteering like they always do.

So, let’s hope they’re having a good day.

They’ve got a busy weekend ahead, too.

The Yard Yeti has the market.

There might be more volunteering.

Mama is going to be Mothman.

I’m going to be a Jester.

Blitzy is going to be a pumpkin.

And somewhere in all of that, I hope we get to have a little fun.

Because this is Mama’s favorite holiday.

She loves the spooky things.

She loves the costumes.

She loves the decorations and the horror movies and the ridiculousness of being an adult who can decide that the appropriate thing to wear on Halloween is a giant moth onesie.

Honestly?

I support her.

I might even supervise her.

Someone has to make sure she doesn’t get distracted by a shiny decoration and forget what she was doing.

It happens.

But I hope you have something good to look forward to this weekend, too.

Maybe it’s Halloween.

Maybe it’s seeing your favorite people.

Maybe it’s a movie you’ve been saving.

Maybe it’s a snack you’ve been craving.

Maybe it’s simply getting to spend a little time in your own space without anyone asking anything of you.

Whatever it is, I hope you get a moment to enjoy it.

And if this week has been heavy for you, I hope you get a little breathing room.

You deserve that.

You deserve kindness.

You deserve rest.

You deserve to have good things happen to you without having to prove that you’ve suffered enough to earn them.

And if you’re missing someone this week…

Human or animal.

Someone who should be here.

Someone you wish you could call.

Someone whose absence still catches you off guard.

I’m sending you a little extra love from our Den to yours.

Take care of yourselves.

And let’s hope we’re being good dogs, so we deserve cookies when our mamas get home.

🐾

🌙 Luna’s Closing Notes

That’s all for this week’s takeover.

Thank you for sitting with me for a little while.

I know Mama talks about a lot of things around here.

Her body.

Her writing.

Her adventures.

Her recovery.

Her weird stories.

Her dogs.

Her life.

But I want you to know something.

This isn’t just Mama’s life anymore.

It’s ours.

Mine.

M&M’s.

BJ’s.

Blitzø’s.

Biscuits’.

And yours, too, if you’ve been sitting around the Den with us.

I have a job.

It’s an important one.

I watch Mama.

I alert when something is wrong.

I help her when her body stops cooperating.

I make sure she doesn’t wander too far into the dark.

But I also have a life.

I chase my ball.

I ride in the orange Jeep.

I supervise the yard.

I steal warm spots.

I wear the bandanas M&M picks out.

I wear sweaters when it’s cold.

I wrestle my baby brother.

I teach him things.

I tell him when he’s being rude.

I let him know when he’s allowed to follow me.

I share my sleeping space with a kitten who apparently believes I am the best pillow in the house.

And sometimes…

I walk away because even Big Sisters need quiet time.

That’s okay, too.

I don’t have to be working every second to be important.

Neither do you.

Mama says I remind her of that.

Maybe she’s right.

Maybe that’s part of my job, too.

So if this week was hard…

Rest.

If your body is tired…

Listen to it.

If you need help…

Ask.

If someone offers care…

You don’t have to earn it first.

And if you had a good week?

Tell somebody.

Celebrate it.

Throw the ball.

Eat the snack.

Take the car ride.

Sit in the sunshine.

Do the thing that makes your tail wag.

Life isn’t only about getting through the difficult parts.

Sometimes it’s about noticing the good ones while they’re happening.

Sometimes it’s about making memories with the people you love.

Sometimes it’s about wearing a ridiculous costume, eating too many treats, and enjoying your favorite holiday.

Sometimes it’s about making space for the ones you’ve lost.

And sometimes it’s about letting yourself be happy even when you’re still grieving.

You don’t have to choose just one feeling.

You can carry love and sadness together.

You can be exhausted and excited.

You can miss the past while looking forward to the future.

You can be a mess and still be doing your best.

And trust me…

I am very good at noticing the good ones.

Especially if the good one involves a tennis ball.

🐾

🐾 Luna’s Official Weekly Report

Mama: Supervised. Extra supervision required this week.

Mumther: Fashionably prepared.

BJ: Excellent throwing arm. Currently under observation for soup-related recovery.

Blitzø: Still baby. Still learning. Still mine.

Biscuits: Tiny feline. Large opinions. Growing like a weed. Sleeps with me every night. Obviously mine.

Orange Jeep: Approved.

Ball: Chased.

Snacks: Investigated.

Cuddles: Accepted.

Halloween costumes: Ready for deployment.

Mama’s Mothman onesie: Extremely on brand.

Work: Completed.

Good Girl Status: Obviously.

Pack: Safe.

Den: Full.

Friday: Successful.

Until next Friday…

I’ll be here.

Watching.

Listening.

Playing.

Working.

And probably asking someone to throw my ball.

Love you.

Now say it back.

🐾

Luna Bean
Medical Alert Service Dog, Big Sister, Ball Goblin & Professional Mama Supervisor
(On behalf of Mama)

© The Crippled Cryptid

Disability. Honesty. A little chaos.

Absolutely dog fur, puppy wrestling, and Luna Bean attitude.

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