When my child got out of the hospital, we bought her a bearded dragon because in my warped mind I thought it would be a good distraction. I tried to buy her depression away. As far as pets go, these lizards make good ones. And it doesn’t shed fur, just skin. And it doesn’t bark, meow, squeak, or take up too much space. I thought if she had something to take care of, she might heal faster. I thought I was pretty freaking smart. I thought.
So we found Marshall and from the minute they laid eyes on each other it was love at first sight. He cuddles with her, she kisses him (ack!), they are a team. He eats out of her hand and falls asleep with her every night. He is like the Jesus savior lizard. Except we are Jewish so I guess maybe he’s our Moses savior lizard who helps her let her demons go.
Things have been great with Marshall the lizard king right up until he stopped eating 5 days ago. And I’m thinking great, we get the lizard with an eating disorder? What in the ever loving fuck did I do to deserve this. He moved from not eating to shaking to basically crashing all in a matter of s few days. So I went all Emergency! (Remember that show? Shut up I’m old) and rushed him to the nearest vet who works with exotic animals 45 minutes away. Because of course I did.
Because this lizard cannot die. He is our salvation, doesn’t he know this? Turns out he has an upper respiratory infection likely from stress (REALLY???). 180 bucks later I have to give him subcutaneous injections of antibiotics and syringe feed him supplements and a dewormer. Because this was exactly what I needed right now. If anyone else has an issue in this house, they’re on their own. I tapped out with Marshall the lizard king.