After living here for nearly a month, this thing finally has a name: Tank Wigglesworth. I thought, two days ago, he would be called "Mo" (short for Mozart), because Jac told me "Mozart" sounds like a lizard name. Until today's sudden appearance of "Tank", the choices were "Mozart", "Bubba" and "Bosco". My submissions of "Elvis" and "Solomon" were shot down immediately.
The business of naming things is important, you know. This thing is going to live here for roughly 10 years.
Which brings us to the obvious...Jac is not scheduled to live here for 10 more years. So...umm...don't kids have a history of not taking their pets with them when they leave?
You all know I am irrationally afraid of snakes. I can't even look at them through the glass at the pet store. Blech.
I am sort of o.k. with this thing. I don't have nightmares about him or anything. (Let us not have a discussion of whether or not it's actually a him. It was assumed he is for the simplicity of naming him.) Still, it's not like I want to cuddle up with him or something.
Even if my friend, Tammi, told me one of the highpoints of owning a bearded dragon is that they like to cuddle up on your shoulder when you watch tv. Umm...o.k.? Going to just have to take her word on that.
So, I sucked it up and made myself pick him up.
Because, let's be real. You know who will be taking care of him.
He feels "squishy with a crust". I wouldn't really describe that as something I enjoy, but...it is what it is?