A friend brought a baby beardie to me tonight. He was so sick. He had blood coming out of his mouth from mouth wounds and possibly a broken jaw from being force fed. He was in terrible shape. I wasn't willing to count him out, but I didn't have much hope.
I wrapped him in a softie and tucked him in my shirt. He died just a few moments ago. This poor beardie was stuck in a plastic box in the back room of a pet store for over a month! A MONTH! They didn't follow corporate company policy and they never took him to a vet. They let him die slowly and painfully. They forced him to eat crickets and worms, they forced critical care down his throat, they forced him so much that his poor little jaw broke. They stuck in their sick room on October 19th! I totally could have saved him at that point.
I'm so tired right now that I can only be half angry. This little nameless beardie died for NO reason. He could have been saved had a manager done his job.
The lil guy will be buried in my herb garden tomorrow along side the other babies who have passed on. Sickly babies break my heart a little bit at a time-- especially when they didn't have to die.
-------------Update 11/25/13 ---------------------
My friend who rescued the baby named him Oengus, an Irish god of love, youth, and poetic inspiration.
