Flame's Tremors

Last year, I posted a picture of Flame (the only bearded dragon fire victim from last April's fire) and how his head tremors and trembles. My vet and I are pretty sure it is a byproduct of sloppy breeding. He's got a lot of "Fancy" genes in him-- translucence and all those other fancy things I never learned-- and I think a lot of those specific genes were mixed by mating beardies who were related too closely to each other. That might not be exactly it, but it's our best guess at this point.

Today, sadly, I noticed the tremors are spreading. Flame's tail is now trembling too. :( And I think the other day I saw some leg tremors. I haven't even had him a year and already the shaking is spreading.

We figured that the neurological causes behind his tremors would most likely shorten his life. I just didn't expect them to spread as fast as they are. :( 

I touched his head to get him to look at my camera and he closed his eyes so I could pet him. Aw, sweet baby boy. I gave him a good head scratch before I took the pic. 

Another example of the bad outcomes of sloppy breeding. Specialty body & eye colors are very trendy and popular in most reptiles, but it significantly limits the gene pool they draw from. A smaller gene pool means that problems get amplified. My last translucent beardie had head tremors too. She only lived 3 years. If you want the healthiest possible beardie, pick a "mutt" beardie that has been been bred from a reputable breeder with a good gene pool. They might not be the brightest or prettiest, but they are more likely to live the longest. 

Snatched!!!

We came home from church to discover T-bear, our tiniest tortoise, was missing from the pen in the backyard. It's highly unlikely that he dug out or fit through the bars so someone had to have hopped the fence and snatched him. 

I taped a big sign to my side yard fence saying he was stolen and I've been posting online. I'll put up flyers too. 

T-Bear was a fence walker and stayed on the edges of the puppy gate that he and my other 3 baby torts are in outside. The other 3 hide in the boxes while T-Bear stays visible. 

I suspect someone walked by, was tempted by his cuteness, and snatched him. :( 

Poor Baby Blaze

My heart is very sad this morning. I found Blaze, the sickest Savannah monitor, on his side with his eyes unfocused and his neck turned in a weird way. I honestly thought he was already dead. He moved when I picked him up but not much. His eyes wouldn't focus. 

Poor buddy has never been healthy; he was severely malnourished and underweight (no obvious trauma from the fire). We've tube-fed him and force fed him since we got him-- he's never eaten or drank on his own. He's been to the vet twice with another vet visit scheduled tomorrow. I'm not sure if he'll make it through the day. 

I held him and loved on him for awhile before putting him into a special "Sick" tank that is filled with super soft blankies. He'll stay there for now. If he makes it through the day, I expect tomorrow morning my vet will recommend we let him be out of his misery. :( 

Poor Blaze. I know I can't save every critter, but I sure tried hard to save you. I really didn't want to lose any of the fire victims. I'm sorry I couldn't save you. :`(

Grief

Sadly, I seem to be an expert on bearded dragons dying. I know the process, the look, the death gasping, and what to do with their bodies immediately after death and then later.

I am often asked how I deal with the grief. This year has been TOUGH. There has been a lot. My great uncle, my husband's grandma, my dog of 10 years, at least a half dozen beardies, my bird, my fish, and several other reptiles. I've coached a half dozen people on how to handle their own dying dragons (including one today). I helped a dear friend in rescue with the loss of her two beloved dogs. I've helped people in my neighborhood and church who were in the process of dying.

Death has been rampant this year.

How do I handle it?

Some days I don't handle it so well. I'm not always graceful and in control.

But I think I realized what makes the difference for me. When I feel grief, I let it out immediately. I don't stuff or bury; I don't distract or dismiss; I don't ignore it and hope it will go away. When I feel sadness, I allow myself a moment to grieve and I let my tears fall.

On Saturday, I took my family to see Disney's "Big Hero 6." And, when in a moment of sadness in the movie, I applied the same principle. I cried. My tears fell hard and fast and I tried hard to moderate my breathing so I took in enough oxygen.

I cried over a fictional story filled with fictional characters. I let my grief out.

The funny thing about grief is that it tends to come and go at random times, but when I let it out, it goes away. When I bottle it up, it multiples quickly and becomes unbearable.

Yes, there have been some awkward moments when I bawled my eyes out over a small sick lizard. I have stroked the head of a dying beardie at the vet's office while I waited for the medicine to stop his heart and I wet his head & face with my tears. I had had that beardie for only a day when it was obviously time to put him down. I still allowed myself to grieve and feel the loss of his gentle spirit.

Sometimes, like with Xena, I cried a few days before her death. When it was time to let her go, my tears were spent. My heart was sad, but also happy that she was free. Sometimes I cry in anger at the stupid people who cause such suffering for animals/reptiles and I think mean thoughts like "I hope they never have children" or "I hope someone does this to them." But I let those thoughts out too and they go away.

I am sad for Andy tonight. I haven't cried yet. My tears are there, prickling just below the surface, and I may find myself bawling at a random time for his loss. But -- and this is KEY-- HE DIED BEING LOVED!! It may seem trite to say that to some, but I believe it. Andy knows he is safe & warm & loved; on some level of his little reptile brain, his defenses are down and he's letting go of the fight so that I can fight for him.

Love isn't enough to save bearded dragons. It takes saline injections and Betadyne and a LOT of syringes and Critical Care and my awesome vet & vet's office and Q-tips and toothpicks and a ton of laundry and paper towels and antibiotics frozen in my freezer. And it takes the ability to love and to let go.

So when my tears come-- and they *always* do-- I let them flow freely and let my heart grow a little bigger to hold the memory of the beardie (or reptile) I lost.

That, with the grace of God, is how I do what I do. Just in case you wondered.