As much as I love dragons, I have no love for the bearded ones. Yes, folks, our bearded dragon "Lizard" died this evening (or perhaps yesterday or the day before, we don't really know.)
The facts are these:
About 8 Christmases ago, DH's best friend decided it would be a good idea to give him a reptile as a gift. This idea sprang from DH's passing comment of "Lizards are cool" or some such, which somehow got construed by the best friend as "Ooo, I want a cool lizard!"
And so, on Christmas morning, as we were opening the strange trembling gift with the airholes on top, we found ourselves face to face with a brand new car
! No, no, sorry. *ahem* Wrong post. :P ...a brand new bearded dragon hatchling.
Thanks. I think. :-\
Now, we were in a quandry. Forced to buy some kind of terrarium for the tyke, we obtained one from DH's mom (my memory is kinda sketchy on this, as it's been so long, but I think that's where we got it.) This monstrous-looking thing came with a huge, ugly, HEAVY base with cupboards and all. For such a small creature, you'd think their home wouldn't be quite so big. I mean, it's impossible to hide that thing.HI, WE HAVE A FRICKEN' LIZARD!!!
I think people noticed the lizard first because of the huge terrariuminum instead of our other critters. But because this creature was a gift, we couldn't give it away or sell it, as that would just be plain rude, and how do you explain to your best friend that you couldn't stand the damn thing in the first place?
So the years rolled on and we moved quite a bit, all the while cussing at the lizard, the terrariummuminum, and the heavy-ass base it sits on for all the space it takes up in the moving van, not to mention our new home. Seriously. Worse than fish, folks. At least with fish, I'd want to sit and watch them for awhile. The only joy we got out of that lizard was watching him eat the occasional cricket and/or mealworm, but of course that meant *I'D* be the one going to the pet shop to buy the damned things. More than once, I've had to hold back the willies while a bag of 50 adult crickets rolls around in the front seat of my car on my way home to feed the lizard. **shudder**
We "loved" the lizard so much that we named it...you guessed it, "Lizard". Originally, DH had named it "Dog", because we didn't have (or couldn't have) a dog at that time, and he really wanted one. But we never called it "Dog", and once we got a dog, it seemed a misnomer. We hardly ever handled the thing, so whenever you'd go to change its water, the darned thing would hiss at you.
Every year, when he'd go into hibernation, DH and I would frequently poke and prod him, wondering if he'd passed on to bask on the Giant Boulder in the Sky, but then he'd crack an eye and we'd groan, lamenting yet another year of the poor, unwanted lizard and the unsightly terrarinariranium.
This evening, whilst going through my nightly ritual, locking up and turning off lights, I noticed I didn't see him breathing. Well, that was nothing new, as when in hibernation, he'd frequently take shallow breaths few and far between. But his eyes were half-open, just barely cracked, and he'd never do that, unless to curse you for interrupting his beauty sleep. And so, I decided to do my scientific "Is he dead yet?" test perfected in years past. I tapped on the glass. Nothing. I blew into the cage. No flinching. I stared at him for a full minute. No sign of breathing.
I call out to my DH, "Hey, I think your lizard is dead."
"Really?" he asks, moseying over to the terranthimum. "'Bout time."
I arch my brow.
DH looks at me. "Now we can put this thing on Craig's List and finally be rid of it."
(not the dead lizard, the CAGE
, you nutty people)
Do I feel bad about not mourning the loss of a critter we've had for eight years? Not really. I never would have chosen a lizard for a pet, and I still wouldn't. Not because I think lizards or snakes are "gross" or "creepy", but because you can't really snuggle with a bearded dragon. Perhaps some people do, but they's crazy folk. And because of that, I never "bonded" with the thing. It was just one more mouth to feed, really.
All of this brings me to this moment, at 1:25am in the morning, blogging on Becka's Babble. Why am I blogging at this time of night? Well, because I wanted to get rid of the lizard before the kids wake up. Don't want to deal with "clean up reptile corpse on aisle 5
" in the morning. Besides, just having it laying there waiting for me to dig it out of the terraminium is kinda nasty/creepy. I literally went to bed, then got up to take care of it. Icky icky icky pe-tang!
Now, I will quietly remove any mention of "Lizard" from my bios that are in the back of my books (only upcoming books, not ones already released). As of this moment, we only have one dog and one cat. If anyone ever has half a mind to give us another lizard again, better check your pockets and purses, because that shit's goin' home with you!