The cut on the top of my cheek is deep enough to need stitches, but, thanks to my years of reptile rescuing, I'm super good at using Steri-strips and butterfly bandages to close up wounds. I've avoided quite a few visits to Instacare with these skills.
My husband has the patient of a saint. He eats dinner while tortoises are waxing the floor with their parts and steps over poop to get to the bathroom and sleeps with at least 4 lizards in our room.
He is a very very good guy.
But when it comes to me bleeding, he puts his foot down and pushes me to make the hard decision.
Midnight has to go.
My heart is heavy. How can I adopt out such a demon? And when he's sweet, he's really sweet. I've made my family work around him and suffer through him for almost 3 months. They all are terrified of him. I have drug my feet, hoping it will improve. It hasn't.
Sometimes being a rescuer stinks. And not just the poop that stinks.
:(
