Why I suck at having pets

Let me tell you a story. A story of a beautiful princess called Katelyn. All she EVER wanted to do in the world was make it a better place. And what better way, Katelyn thought, than taking care of all the lost, lonely and sad creatures of the earth? But know what? Katelyn was wrong. She was dead wrong. And here is the story of why I will never be able to independently own a pet.

In the twelfth grade, I went to the petstore as I did every week, just for fun. It was on this fateful perusal however that my eyes fell on the loneliest creature I had ever seen.

A bearded dragon – with half his tail missing. Now, a logical person goes: “Hey, this guy is missing half a tail and looks pissed. Something tells me he’s a hard ass.” but a Katelyn person goes, “Awwwwwwwwwww…..what a sad, bedraggled creature! No one to love it! BUT I WILL!”

And so I phoned my father in Kamloops and BEGGED him to buy this lizard for me. I asked if it could be my graduation present. And of course my dad suffering from divorced-parent-guilt folded immediately.Little did he know he would rue the day.

And so my father came down and bought him for me. He bought the terrarium and the crickets (which, not surprisingly I could not feed him out of fear of actually touching them.) and the heat lamp and we set up a nice little desert climate for my favorite pal.But, little did I know that my lizard – now named the ever creative: “Larry” was carrying a big chip on his shoulder.

So one day when I invited some girlfriends over to meet my latest addition, I didn’t count on him immediately hating me. I thought he would find it in his reptilian heart to love the large, loud creature that had saved him from his previous imprisonment.

Turns out I was wrong.

For as I was showing him off, pointing to him in the terrarium, Larry decided that he was going to show who was boss once and for all.

He bit me. HARD. The little bastard bit me so hard I started bleeding everywhere.

When the screaming had subsided and my friends had left, I contemplated my fate with this lizard. He needed to love me. I needed to make him love me. Oh, I tried. For about six months I tried everything to get that little jerk to love me. But he never did. Everytime I came near him his little beard puffed up and he tried to bite me.

And one night, after he had broken out of his terrarium and bit my ankle, something became quite apparent. He hated me and he was going to kill me. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but some day.

And so I did what any rational, sane person would do.

That’s right. I pawned him off on my brother, expecting Matt to grow weary as well. Except he didn’t. How do I know? Because he and the damn lizards became BEST FRIENDS! The stupid thing sleeps on his pillow at night!

Lesson learned. I should not own lizards.

4 thoughts on “Why I suck at having pets

  1. My brother has a bearded dragon named Taz. Taz has a full tail. Perhaps as a result of maintaining a full tail, he has no apparent chip on his shoulder. Taz usually remains in his climate controlled habitat though, no pillow sleeping for him. When my brother got Taz, he also got an iguana. They were both passed on to him by an owner who couldn’t keep them anymore. The iguana definitely had an attitude problem. He had a tail made of steel and one whip of it could break a human’s arm. The iguana died and I don’t think anyone mourned his passing because he was a frightening creature whose cage was damn near impossible to clean.
    I once saved a white red eyed gerbil with half a tail from a pawn shop. Pawn shop lady told me her tail would grow back. That was a lie. I took her to the classroom of my 6th grade teacher to be a companion for our class pet. They really hit it off and the teacher had to cover the cage with construction paper because it was quite distracting. He eventually was handing out baby gerbils as prizes for a job well done.

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