I have one of those Google TVs and all of my pictures just slide across the TV. They always make me so nostalgic. How can pictures make your heart break?
The other day one splashed across the screen that had my son with a tiny bearded dragon on his chest. Suddenly, I felt regret and loss… and love. I’d almost forgotten about that bearded dragon. Isn’t it funny how time goes by and you forget about things that broke your heart? I guess maybe time does heal all things.
In my refusal to get my family a dog, I agreed to every other pet under the sun, thinking it would be easier. I never realized a dog would’ve just been easier. But in addition to the fish and the cat and the hamster, we got a bearded dragon. I heard they were relatively easy to take care of but I think they’re a silly pet because you can’t cuddle them. That’s how I feel about fish also.
Of course, everybody said they would help take care of him when we first got him. There was so much excitement at the beginning. The kids loved going to buy crickets for him and watching him eat crickets. We bought him a little outfits and we even bought a little bearded dragon leash. It was so hard getting it under his little front paws and getting him on the leash that we rarely used it.
But as things usually go, I’m the only one left taking care of things. And he was relatively easy. If I could remember to feed him. I’m still pretty sure I killed my son’s first hamster because I forgot to feed him. The bearded dragon had one of those mats, so it was relatively easy to clean his cage, but of course I did not do it as often as I should have.
He was still a lot of work for me and pretty stress inducing since I could never remember to feed him. Who has time in the midst of raising two little boys, working full-time and taking care of a house to remember to go buy crickets for the bearded dragon?
I would often wake up in the middle of the night and think to myself, “When is the last time anyone fed that bearded dragon?” Meaning me. I was asking myself. No one else would feed the bearded dragon.
I’d run downstairs at four in the morning to see what kind of fruits or vegetables I could find in the fridge. While he ate them, I promised that little bearded dragon over and over again that, the next day, I would go get him some crickets, if only he would live through the night. And what do you know? Did I keep my promise and remember to get crickets the next day? I’d like to think yes, but I’m not really so sure.
Why didn’t I make a list? Or write it on a Post-it note and stick it on the front door? Look at all these brilliant ideas I have after the fact! Yes yes… I realize many people make lists, and the idea is not a new one, but just humor me here. Now that I’m old and forgetful, I realize how much I love lists. You can call me a slow learner. These days I sometimes find myself getting out of bed at 3am to make a list.
The whole cricket thing was extremely heartbreaking. Look at these cute little guys leaping for joy all over the place. Not knowing they’re about to be hunted and killed by my bearded dragon. It depressed me every time, but I still did it. I tried making my bearded dragon a strict vegetarian, but after much Googling, I decided he really needed some crickets. The circle of life and all that stuff, but it still felt like murder to me.
Did it get easier overtime? I think it did. Is it sort of like we become desensitized to all the evil in the world because we are so used to it?
And life went on like that. For years. He just became a habit and a routine in my busy life and something to stress about. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the little guy, but I barely had time to wash my hair much less time to bond with the bearded dragon.
And then he got sick.
He was lethargic, stopped eating, and I would often find him flipped over on his back at random times during the day. After much Googling again, I learned that it’s really dangerous when that happens. They have no diaphragm and therefore cannot breathe on their backs and it can lead to fatal suffocation. I needed to flip him back over on his belly right away when that happened. At first it happened once or twice a day but then it was happening constantly.
I would sit vigil all night long by his cage to be there when he flipped on his back so I could flip him back over. I’d sometimes fall asleep with my cheek pressed against a glass of his cage, drool probably dripping down the glass before waking up suddenly and realizing where I was and what I was supposed to be doing.
He was so still I was worried he wasn’t breathing. I’d spend hours watching him carefully looking for some sign of breathing. I would poke him a few times just to make sure he was still alive.
I found myself researching bearded dragon CPR and believe it or not, there are videos and articles about it. Is that a real thing? Were these joke videos that I was taking seriously? Either way, it gave me great hope that I could save this little guy‘s life if he stopped breathing. I was prepared to do tiny little chest compressions and I practiced them on the hamster. The rescue breaths were the things I was nervous about. Would he bite me? I would have nightmares of doing rescue breaths too strongly and causing his whole little body to explode and his bearded dragon guts flying all over the wall as my kids came down the stairs for school.
Also, what was my end game going to be with the bearded dragon CPR? Don’t you do it until the EMS arrive and take over? No one would be arriving to take over. Was my plan to just keep performing the CPR for the rest of my life?!? Maybe my brother would switch off with me.
This went on for over a week. Forget the housework, the kids, the laundry – my only priority was making sure the bearded dragon was still alive. I was so worried about him. I was so sad that I didn’t love him better. Why does it take tragedies like this for us to love right? Can’t we just get it right from the beginning?
One day, I could barely tell if he was breathing at all and so I decided I needed to take him somewhere. I called all around, but there are very few vets that take bearded dragons. I found one exotic animal vet out near Carolina Beach. I put the little guy in a shoebox and he sat in the front seat next to me and I played songs that I thought he would like such as Puff the Magic Dragon. I spoke to him the whole way to the vet. Very encouraging things. You can do it! Hang in there! That type of thing.
Do bearded dragons understand English? Did he just want me to shut up so he could listen to the music? I thought maybe my voice would soothe him like a little baby inside the womb, but to be honest, he probably didn’t recognize my voice because I did not talk to him enough over the years. But there was a bond there or I wouldn’t have been so distraught.
By this point, I was just crying hysterically. And I didn’t stop for over a day… I was so full of sadness,, loss and regret.
At the vet, they took him back to do an exam and when they brought him back, they told me that he had caught a virus and it had gone to his heart and his body was just shutting down. There was nothing they could do. They said he was still alive and still breathing and asked me if I would like a few moments with him. I said yes, please. I put that little bearded dragon on my lap, and I cried and cried and cried. I hugged him against my chest (which I had never done before) and told him what a wonderful bearded dragon he was, and I apologized for all the times I forgot to feed him, and I apologized that nobody paid any attention to him most of the time.
The nurse kept poking her head in asking if I needed more time and I kept saying yes, and yes, and yes. Why was I all of a sudden so attached to this little guy that I walked by every day and didn’t even give a second glance too? Why don’t we just do a better job when we can?
The nurse eventually had to put her foot down and say it was time. One nurse pried the bearded dragon from my hands while the other one held me and I cried and snotted on her shirt. What a weirdly intimate moment at the vet.
They offered to just dispose of him themselves for $300 or I could take him home with me. I really did not want to bring a dead bearded dragon back home but I didn’t have an extra $300. What would I even do with it? Bury it in my yard? Let the cat finally eat it?
In the end they decided to just take care of it for free for me. At the moment I thought it was the kindest and sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me. Now I think they just wanted to get me out of there ASAP or they were afraid of what I would do with his poor dead body. I wasn’t REALLY going to feed it to my cat. But I was relieved not to have to take the dead body home.
I was such a mess they said they would bring my bill into the exam room and show me out the back way so I would not have to walk through the waiting room.
Have you ever heard of that? Was that for my benefit? Or for the people in the waiting room’s benefit? Did they think I would be embarrassed? Would I embarrass them? Do people in vet waiting rooms not expect people to be crying hysterically?
I paid the bill from the room and they led me out the back. It wasn’t just a hallway and a back door. It was through the staff lunchroom and down creepy dark hallways. If my life was a murder mystery this was the part where they would chloroform me and lock me in the broom closet. But my life is not a murder mystery and they just led me out to the parking lot.
They said they would call when the footprints are ready. They made a little ornament with the bearded dragon’s paw prints in clay. They were the cutest little paws I’ve ever seen. Why didn’t I admire his cute little paws when he was alive?
I took myself to a little roof top bar for a glass of wine to drink away my sorrows and also celebrate the sweet little bearded dragon’s life. I was still crying hysterically.
Some guy came up and asked me if was OK. Maybe he was trying to hit on me? I told him through snot and sobs that my bearded dragon just died. He could not get away from me fast enough. I swear he tripped over a stool running away from me.
Yes ladies, you are welcome to use my line if you are ever being hit on and you are not interested. It worked extremely well.
I missed the bearded dragon so much while I sat there and drank my wine. I wondered if a lot of my sadness was the feeling that I failed. I failed at keeping him alive. We always feel our failures so strongly.
So, I ordered another glass of wine and really hoped my kids would not want to get a new pet to replace this one.
Cooking Failures 