Are you ready to meet my Cryptid Crew?
Meet Luna š¾āØ
Hi, Iām Luna– a 2-year-old purebred Australian Cattle Dog, professional ball chaser, full-time cuddle bug, and proud full-fledged service dog! I turned two on October 11th, and Iāve been busy leveling up ever since.
Iām officially a medical alert service dog, trained to detect migraines and seizures before they strike. But thatās not all- Iāve also mastered tasks like DPT (deep pressure therapy), behavior interruption, item retrieval, and more. I take my work seriously, but Iāve still got a sharp mind, a big heart, and a nose for both trouble and tennis balls.
When Iām off duty, you can usually find me:
- Basking in the sun on the deck like a little lizard.
- Zooming after my glow-in-the-dark ball like it owes me money.
- Snuggling up with my mama- my favorite human in the whole world.
My ultimate treats? Dried salmon skins from Costco (a major upgrade from my beloved cod skins) and Yak cheese chews- though those need to be puffed into a Cheeto shape, or I go a little wild and chew way too enthusiastically.
I may not have wings like Mothman (yet), but I carry the spirit of a cryptid sidekick: loyal, watchful, and always ready to spring into action- or nap in a sunbeam.
If you want to see even more of my adventures, follow me on socials @Luna.the.Service.Dingo- because a service dogās life is never boring!
Stick around here on the blog, and you might just catch me patrolling the pages, one pawprint at a time. š¾āØ
Bear- Our Grumpy Guardian Forever
Bear (April 2012āOctober 28, 2025) may have crossed the Rainbow Bridge, but he will always be the elder cryptid of this household and the keeper of our hearts. For 13 years, he patrolled fences, trucks, boats, and any suspicious trailer that dared near our home- but always returned to his true loves: cheese, naps, and his beloved dinosaur ābabies.ā Each human holds one close- Sky with the purple one, the Yard Yeti with the two little reds, and M&M with the tiny Christmas dino- and through them, his watchful, slobbery hugs live on.
His couch may seem emptier now, but every cushion still echoes with the memory of his dignified sprawls and occasional gentle grumbles. Luna, his baby sister and faithful sidekick, misses him deeply, and the house feels quieter without his signature awoos greeting the world.
We will never again go to the park and watch him bark at ducks and geese, play ball with Luna, and share quiet moments on the pier with M&M- but those afternoons, full of laughter and grumpy joy, are etched forever in our hearts.
Bear was our wise old beast, our loyal companion, our thunderous guardian, and our gentle grumbler. Though he now rests beyond sight, his spirit watches over every adventure, every quiet moment, and every cozy corner of our home. He is gone, but never truly gone.
š Ouroboros (a.k.a. Oreo): The Gentle Coil
Hi, Iām Oreo– or Ouroboros to the mythologically inclined- a 3-year-old aberrant California Kingsnake with a penchant for cozy hideaways, long naps, and the occasional dramatic entrance from beneath a pumpkin.
Some might find my scales a bitā¦ spooky (looking at you, momās uncle and older brother), but I promise Iām the sweetest serpent youāll ever meet. Iāve never hissed, struck, or even given a side-eye to anyone. Flies? Not even worth the effort. But a frozen-thawed mouse? Now that is fine dining.
My favorite hiding spots include under my water dish, deep beneath layers of coconut fiber, or curled up contentedly in my haunted little pumpkin home. I am, after all, a creature of mystery- and mulch.
I might not bark, fetch, or chase trucks, but I bring my own brand of quiet, ancient, cryptid magic to this household- calm, charming, and very, very sly.
Stick around, and you just might catch a flash of black-and-white scales slipping through the shadows. š¤āŖ
š° Potao (a.k.a. Bowser): The Prickled Prince
All Hail Potao š¦āØ
Royal title: Bowser, Defender of the Plastic Castle and Smallest Cryptid in Residence
Iām Potao, a 3-year-old hedgehog with a big personality packed into a palm-sized, poky package. Cute? Undeniably. Huffy? Occasionally. Regal? Absolutely- I live in a castle, after all. Sure, itās made of plastic, but greatness isnāt measured in bricks; itās measured in snacks, snuffles, and well-earned naps.
No princesses to kidnap here- just me, my peaches (favorite fruit, thank you very much), and my beloved bathtimes. I might be a creature of the night, but thereās nothing like a good soak before tunneling around my domain, hunting for hidden treats or the ever-elusive mealworm.
Iāve recently discovered a love for my wheel (finally!) and am absolutely thriving on salmon cat treats. My floor adventures, light cuddles (on my terms), and dramatic treasure digs keep me busy and entertained. Donāt let my size fool youāIām a vital member of the Cryptid Crew. Small but spiky, mysterious but sweet, I bring balance to this household of paws, claws, and scales.
Long may I reign. šš¦
Lord Lestat de Lioncourt (August 21, 2011 ā 2018)
Our beloved Lestat, affectionately known as Lestat the Pretzel and The Brat Prince, was our gentle, sweet, and endlessly patient corn snake. Named after the charismatic vampire from Anne Riceās Interview with a Vampire, Lestat was my very first snake- the one who started it all.
We brought him home on August 21st, 2011, and from the very beginning, he taught me responsibility, independence, and the quiet courage of loving what others might not understand. Lestat never bit, never lashed out, and never failed to show the grace that made him so special.
He loved his hides: first his castle, then his stone rock house, and the tree he could climb when he wanted a change of scenery. In my arms, he would weave through my hair or lounge around my shoulders like a delicate necklace, reminding me every day of the trust he placed in those he loved.
Lestat also helped my little brother, the Yard Yeti, see that snakes arenāt scary. He was a teacher, a companion, and a gentle soul who showed that even those the world sometimes misunderstands are deserving of love and kindness.
Despite hardships- including a time when he was thrown outside by someone heartless and cruel- he always found his way home. Lestat was more than a pet; he was a life lesson wrapped in scales, a quiet teacher of patience, love, and forgiveness.
Rest in peace, sweet Brat Prince. Your gentle heart and loving spirit will forever live on in our memories.
š In Loving Memory: Rex (August 2, 2001 ā November 5, 2013)
There are some dogs who donāt just leave pawprints on your heart- they become part of its very structure. Rex was that kind of dog. A purebred Shetland Sheepdog with soulful brown eyes and the softest fur imaginable, he looked especially handsome in green and carried himself with gentle, quiet wisdom far beyond his years.
He came into my life at a time when the world was upside down. It was October of 2001, not long after 9/11, and I was a little girl whoād seen far too many sterile hospital rooms and dialysis centers. Maybe thatās why my Papa- Richard- brought him home to me. Maybe it was to give me something solid, something soft and warm to hold onto. Or maybe it was just because every small-town girl deserves a dog. (Something he said often, every little girl needs a dog.)
I donāt remember who named him, only that the name was his from the very beginning- Rex. His AKC papers called him Skyās Baby Rex, and thatās exactly what he was. And yes, I do still have them.
I remember the day we picked him up like it happened yesterday: just over the border near Trevor, Wisconsin. No real leash, just a bit of rope. I sat in the backseat of my Grandmaās cherry-red Chevy Cavalier, watching over him. He was so scared he stayed curled up on the floorboards the whole ride home. And the second the door opened? He bolted.
I thought Iād lost him forever.
Papa and Brad (my momās boyfriend at the time- BJās dad, though BJ wouldnāt be born until December that year) went searching with hot dogs and bologna. I was tucked into bed, heartbroken, crying and afraid, only six and a half years old and already sure Iād lost the dog meant to be my best friend. But sometime that night- long after I fell asleep- they found him.
Years later, I learned something that broke me and healed me all at once: that Rex had spent that first night curled up in Papaās recliner, bonding over vanilla ice cream and Layās potato chips, bathed in the glow of Archie Bunker reruns on the old staticky TV. Just the two of them- a man and a puppy, becoming best friends in the quiet hush of late-night comfort. (Remember, there were no LED flatscreen TVās back in 2001)
Rex was by my side for over a decade. Through childhood adventures on wooded trails, backyard games of frisbee, and lakeside swims. Through peanut butter sandwiches and popsicle summers, bike rides chasing ice cream trucks, and sleepy afternoons spent tangled together on the couch. Through every doctorās appointment, every unanswered question, every night I cried into my pillow wondering what was wrong with me- he was there. Always.
He was my anchor through the shifting tides of childhood and adolescence- when I traded soccer balls for storybooks, and dollhouses for daydreams. He was my rock. My refuge. My constant.
He was, as the song says, āthe house that built me.ā
And though heās gone now, helped gently over the Rainbow Bridge on November 5, 2013, I still feel him. Sometimes I wonder what heād think of Luna, my bright, sunflower-souled service dog in training. Maybe heād recognize the same herding heart in her- maybe heād approve. Maybe heād nudge her gently and tell her to keep watch over me, just like he always did.
If thereās a Heaven- and Iām still on the fence about that, cryptid that I am- I like to think Rex is up there with Papa. Sharing potato chips and Oreos in that old red recliner, watching sitcom reruns and keeping each other company. Maybe my mom and grandma are nearby, shaking their heads and scolding him for spoiling the dog. And maybe Bradās still throwing a ball across the clouds, giving the best belly rubs in the universe.
He was my first great love. And he will always, always, be my good boy.
