My pet bearded dragon died this morning. 
I called him Chow Yun Fat-Boy; Karen called him Spike.
Yesterday he was looking happy and peaceful, sitting on top of a log. He would changed colour depending on his mood, and yesterday evening he was more yellow than usual. I thought that was a good sign.
This morning I noticed that his beard and tail tip were black but his middle was yellow, and that was a combination I had never seen before. His mouth was open, and when I looked more closely I could see that he wasn’t breathing.
I think I’ll go and shed some tears now.
2 comments ↓
Poor wee devil. And poor wee Marty.
He had a good life, and brought happiness to you (and a mild fear to my children, if I recall correctly.)
How old was he? A goodly age for a dragon?
I an very sorry to hear that.
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