Sweet Tiger

Today I had decided to be brave and do what I've been putting off for weeks. I made an appointment to have our beloved pet beardie Tiger put down. He's been growing sicker and sicker and nothing we've tried has helped. Because he was adopted by my daughter, I hesitated to do it-- especially when I learned on her birthday that there was nothing else to try to make Tiger well. :(

Tiger has gotten really bad the last two days. And even though today has ended up being a super crappy day here, we decided we owed it to Tiger to stop his suffering.

I had hopes of putting up his first pic versus later and how we trained him to give us kisses and how he's been the best beardie ever. I'm not quite to the point of feeling numb, but I'm close. I can't do it. Two of my three kids have been crying over Tiger. So I'm crying for me because I am losing two in one day and I'm going to miss Tiger and I'm sad because my kids are losing another pet.

It's too much today.

Here's Sweet Tiger, wrapped in his Christmas blankie. Even though he feels terrible, he still had to bob his head at Ziggy. Silly Tiger. Fly high, my love!

Gut Feelings and Guilt

My cheek is doing much better. I've got one Steri-strip holding the two worst cuts closed and when I go out, I cover it with a ladybug bandage. :) Here's me with Teddy on Sunday. 

I had many people offer to take Midnight from me, but none of them felt right in my gut. Since I started rescuing, I've always tried to "go with my gut feeling" and it's never lead me wrong. I couldn't seem to get a peaceful feeling with any of the offers. 

Finally, a friend of mine emailed me back and that's when I *finally* had peace. I'm taking Midnight to him tomorrow morning. My heart aches. I don't quit easily. If I start something, I do it full force until it's done. Quitting is so hard to do.

Midnight has been stuck in his cage since he attacked me Friday night. It feels me with such guilt and sorrow. I cannot let him out though; I can't even get close to the cage without him freaking out. :( His mouth is all torn up from him rubbing it against the bars. Breaks my heart. 

I'm sorry, Midnight, that your life so far has been so crappy. I'm glad that I loved you when I could. I know you'll find love and happiness to come. 

A Hard Memory-- comes with a warning note (see below)

WARNING NOTE: do not read this post if you are very tender hearted about dying animals. It's heart breaking. It's not gruesome or nasty but just really really sad. 

-----------------------------------

On Monday when I put my beloved iguanas down, I had an extra traumatic experience that has been too painful to recount until now. I still expect to cry as I write this though. 

Sancho died very quickly and very peacefully. I held her as her breath slowed and she went to sleep for good. Her tail (where they injected her) bled on me and her nail scratched a hole in my shirt and her spines scratched up my arms, but she passed peacefully. 

Turbo didn't die quickly. He went to sleep and snuggled into my neck, but he didn't stop breathing. 

5 minutes, 10 minutes, 15 minutes. Sancho was long gone. The vet came in multiple times, but Turbo was still breathing. 

Finally- after about 35 minutes, the vet decided to give Turbo another injection. But, since there wasn't enough blood pressure left in his tail, he injected it into his belly. And then left. 

It must have hurt poor Turbo who reared up and struggled against me. His mouth was gaping and he was trying to thrash about. I kept trying to hold him and soothe him, but I couldn't hardly talk because I was sobbing. 

Turbo didn't die easily or quickly or nicely. It has been haunting me. It felt like forever until he calmed down though it was only a few minutes. When he was gone, I knew it. I didn't need the vet to use his heart monitor. Turbo was gone. I laid him down on the towel next to Sancho. 

I took a few pics and paid my bill. I didn't even wait for the vet to come back in to checkI left. I was numb and aching all at the same time. I felt broken and I was tired of sobbing in public. 

I got in my van and just sat there, staring down at my hands. My shirt had iguana blood and pee (Sancho lost control of her bowels at the end). My hands and arms were scratched. My head was aching from crying. I was a mess. I just sat there, unable to move. 

I heard a tap on the window. It was my vet. I rolled down the window. He reached in, patted me softly on the shoulder, and said he was sorry. I shrugged in response. I appreciated his gesture but I had nothing to give back. 

Later that night, as my sweet husband wrapped his arms around me, I choked out the experience of Turbo thrashing. The pain of the memory was festering in my heart and I couldn't bear the weight of it. I had to share it. I felt slightly better after telling someone. That's the point of this post too. I can't carry the weight of those sad 5 minutes alone. I need to let them go so I can remember the good times instead. 

I'm so sorry, Turbo. I'm sorry if I made you die. You were so sick and only getting worse. I couldn't watch you suffer any more. I'm sorry the last 5 minutes of your life sucked. I hope you forgot all about it as your sweet iguana soul went back to heaven. I love you dearly. I'll never forget you and I'm sorry. Always remember us snuggling together while I rocked you. Those will always be the happy times. 

With love forever for my handi-capable iguana Sancho and my one eyed lover boy Turbo. You both were the best. 

Sick Eyes

They say that eyes are the "windows to the soul" and that is true for beardies too. Yesterday, when I picked up Crikey, I took one look at his eyes and knew he was in very bad shape. That got me thinking about how the eyes are such a good "window" into a beardie's health.

Here is a picture compilation of sickly beardie eyes. They are heartbreaking-- I'll just warn you of that upfront.

Survived

Died 

Died 

Died

Died

Died, several months later

Survived 

Died 

Dying

Died 

Died 

Died

Rico, rescue number 53

Rico's story is horrifying and heartbreaking. He was kept in a tank and fed pinky (baby) rats until he started getting aggressive and the owners stopped feeding him. He spent the last two months of his life in a tank with no UVB, no water, no food, and no heat. He wouldn't eat so the owners gave up on him and decided to leave him to die in his tank when they moved out of their apartment.

Luckily for Rico, a friend of mine found him when she helped her friends move and brought him to me. It's pretty touch-and-go right now. I gave him a 10 mL injection of saline last night and put him in a sick tank with some cozy towels and a nice heat light. I wasn't sure if he would make it through the night. Sometimes animals will struggle so hard to survive that when they don't have to struggle or when they get the nutrition they desperately need, their bodies shut down.

At 3:30 am, I woke up with a headache and was super relieved to see Rico still breathing. Yeah! He cleared the first hurdle. When I turned his day lamp on this morning, his eyes sorta opened. As I was regulating the temperature, he opened his mouth in an attempt to cool down. Another good sign!

Tonight he'll get a second saline injection and tomorrow night another one. On Thursday, I'll start with a very weak baby food squash & Critical Care formula to start to put some calories back into him. It's all about baby steps. Dr Folland likes to tell me that it takes a lot to kill a beardie, but when they are bad it takes a long time to get them back to health.

I'm more optimistic today about his chances than last night. His body is absorbing the saline without shutting down. The more he hydrates, the better he'll feel.

Baby steps forward, little Rico. :) Baby steps.

Our Sweet Lizzie

Lizzie, the boy named as a girl, our first beardie, our favorite love, our best beardie model, passed away today.

We are heart-broken. Something happened internally that was catastrophic for him. At first we thought he had overheated outside, but it was obviously more than that. After 7 years of life, 5 of those with us, our beloved Lizzie joins the host of little beardies waiting for us in heaven.

Yesterday morning we were trying on birthday hats for him and taking pictures. Can you tell he wasn't thrilled?

Then by last night, he was in bad shape.

He didn't even look like himself.

Today we thought he'd be okay in the long term so we left him in his sick tank and went to church. By the time we returned, he was gone.

My daughter got Lizzie for her 9th birthday. He was the best present she's ever gotten. We couldn't have asked for a better beardie and we'll never be able to replace him.

I will love Lizzie forever. My heart is heavy tonight. I cry for my daughter and I cry for myself.

Rest in peace, Sweet Lizzie. You will be with us forever.

Our Old Man Dog

We put our poor sweet 14 year old dog to sleep today. Heartbreak all around. We've had Kip for almost 9 years and he was a big part of our lives. But his health was failing quickly.

He's our angel poochie now 

He was old & tired

Kip & his stuffed puppy

Saying a tearful goodbye

My sad little boy 

He wouldn't let me put him down at the end.