I woke up today in a happier mood than last night. Go downstairs, eat my breakfast. My dad tells me that he thinks one of my bearded dragons are dead. When I had checked on Puff yesterday, I thought he was pale but I figured he was just shedding his skin maybe.
I go upstairs to check on him...
He was dead.
Dead I tell you. Dead.
I took my poor pet from his tank and held him in my hands, and stared at him. His eyes were open in little slits, giving me the impression that he was staring right at me. His small spikes were all black---the type of black you get when you light newspaper on fire. His beard was black, his nails darker than usual...
Amazing how decay sets in so fast...
I hugged the dead thing. I hugged my little Puff. He was 9 years old which...according to my dad's book, is longer than the expectancy so I guess thats a good thing.
But still...
I had to go bury him with my brother bawling his eyes out. I was holding it and trying to dig a hole at the same ******** time because he refused to hold our lizard.
Funny how death brings out uncertainty in the eyes of idiots. My brother had never liked Puff. He never liked to hold him, feed him, look at him, nothing. I was the one always taking care of my lizard- he was like a silent friend. And suddenly, my brother who hated him so much, was crying.
They were the fakest tears I've ever heard.
The fakest
Smile-Its Alex Community Member 
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