Yo. So, there’s nothing that I hate worse than fending off my dog’s bunghole breath and/or plucking off his dingleberries from his matted fur overhang. Until I think of the serpent reptiles. I’ve always feared and loathed the snakes. I never wanted to befriend one. #onlydefriendtheslitheryones. If you would have told me 6 months ago that I would own a reptile, I would hurl my head back and cackle the song of the non-believers, the nay sayers, the hell naw-pied-pipers. Also, on a side note, let’s just say that the sorting hat would not DARE put me in Slytherin. I don’t want to hear about the scaled serpents; I don’t want to think about them, and I certainly, eff no, sure as shit no, do NOT ever, never want to own one. I already have enough people in my life that give me the skeeves.
However, there is this person who I am friends with. She comes in my office with this freakish scaled pterodactyl lizard beast, and she stands behind me only to give herself a chuckle, and she waits and stands there. Lo and behond, I turn and that THING is staring at me with bulbous eye sockets and warty, volcanic roof shingles. And I shudder and try to flee, because – fight or flight.
And one day, when she is going to the restroom, she asks me to hold the shit demon, who is snuggled in a wash cloth, ready to pounce and gnaw on my unprotected larynx. I don’t know why she picked me. There were plenty of other deranged ding dongs just waiting for a serpent to love. But, here I am finding myself caught between a rock and a wart face. Anyhoo – I decided to help a sister out. After all, I am hella hospitable. So I told her to drop it and run. And I also left her with a disclaimer to keep the bathroom door unlocked, b/c if that effer even thought about moving, I was tossing him in. Like a hot potato with scoundrel eyeballs. I looked and I inspected this creature. I even started to feel quasi comfortable. He was an old Bearded Dragon, and he wasn’t into the hyper life. I thought it would be funny to send a selfie with me and him (whilst I held him very down low, so low to the flooow) to my 12 year old animal lover. Kind of like “Ha, ha! Look how crazy your mom has just gone!”
But, here’s the response I get instead: “MOM! I have been wanting one of those!” (Since when, breakfast?) And days and weeks passed where I heard nothing but how badly we needed a Bearded Dragon, how much more complete her life would be, and how badly I must need another hobby like I need a spleen splinter. So, after months of begging, and seeing how Christmas was right around the corner, I did a shitbox of research and ba-bam. We found ourselves being psychologically manipulated once. again. We ended up getting a pretty special little dude. Not half as fugly as I was expecting or prickly and unapproachable. He is a baby leatherback that this same friend brought to my daughter to make her Christmas the most extraordinary ever. He effing eats live crickets and his name is Rocky. Because, that could be a name that could potentially go either way the day we for real find out whether Rocky might be short for “Raquelle.”
I now love these effers. I want to hold them, I want to snuggie with them, I want to check on them every 5 minutes and stalk them in their terrariums while they get antsy because they can’t escape my creeper gaze. I harp on my girls to clean their habitats, to give them more food, to make sure they’re getting their leafy green veggies and fruits, and to hold them and love them more. More! This guy below my youngest daughter fell in love with. He was found in a trash can, rescued and my friend ended up adopting him. My daughter would go in her classroom every day and spend time with it. Ugh.
His name is Vladimir, and he is the bomb diggity. He is a sloppy, massive, clumsy half Russian. He is about a year old and eats Bearded Dragon food, which really helps a sister out, and these guys’ terrariums, with the lights, and the food samplers, and food bowls cost over $200. We did that shit TWICE. I know there are used and cheaper set ups that you can get online, but we are a couple of fraidy effs, who didn’t want to take a chance and go into this situation at a disadvantage. They have to have a USV light, and a heating lamp, that should be turned on 12 hours a day. My daughters do so well with them that we hardly ever have to get on to them (most of the time). CREEPER!
That’s Rocky! (below) He’s a Gemini and has an extroverted heart with a laugh that will make your knees buckle. He’s the bees knees! (Or the crickets’ crotch, because that does happen a lot). It’s super fun to watch this tiny little lizard in attack mode right after my daughter feeds him his 20 or so crickets. Oh, and it’s super fun to make bi-weekly cricket runs, especially when my daughter tells me 5 minutes before bed time: “Oh, Rocky is going to need more crickets for the morning.” WTF. Look at little Rocky getting all frisky. He so crazy.
Nathan’s Hot Dog Eating Contest. He’s a gentle giant. I have heard through the dragon vine that there are beardies out there that are so spastic and hyper. Thank you, Jesus, with all possible respect, for giving me some chill animals. I can’t tell you how little I needed another pet, but how pleasantly surprising (and plump) this has been. Color me educated.Down below is my precious, sweet, snuggly Vladimir. He’s a stubborn, yet sassy Taurus who secretly likes to listen to Bach and his favorite thing is participating in is the yearly
Oh -Jot this down in your journal. Vladimir takes dumps the size of my blackened soul. In case you’ve never seen a beardie taking a deuce, it’s worth looking into. His whole body shakes and he will hike up his tail, and that’s when you know that the blackened lava is imminent. It’s stinky and fierce and pretty impressive, and starts off with a squirts diarrhea sound just in case you’re not positive that a turd is coming. So, if you’re looking for a pet, and you have a hankering for the reptilian lifestyle, maybe check into this amazing species. They’ve clawed their way in and started to thaw out my cold, frigid heart.