Post by Die Fledermaus on Sept 25, 2007 21:28:08 GMT -4
I posted about Green Bean the iguana who I recently rescued and who soon passed away. See in Memorial and Other Pets (The "Holy Crap" thread) for details.
With Gwen the dwarf dying and the issue of dignity being raised, I figured I'd share this story from my friend and rescue colleague Susan. I received this in the wake of Green Bean's demise.
>> Funny how alike we are, beating ourselves up for things we aren't even responsible for, when we should be taking some kind of personal pride in ourselves for at least giving a crap about these unfortunate creatures someone else felt were perfectly discardable.
On Tuesday, a long-term resident here - one we didn't feel needed to be put through the stress of being re-homed - passed away after 1.5+ years with me. He was an adult chinese water dragon nicknamed Skeletor for the living-skull appearance of his head. Most of the flesh had atrophied away from the front of his face (see photo), from him repeatedly battering it against the glass sides of a tank that was too small for him. They don't understand what glass is, so they bash against it trying persistently to get "over there" somewhere, figuring that if they can see it, they can get to it.
He was already an older lizard when we got him in. His face was a mass of blood, scabs and abcesses, and he was emaciated. His immune system was shot to hell from fighting all the infection around his face and in his mouth. We couldn't imagine he'd live for long. I felt so sad for him, so I took him in myself "for as long as it takes." Over the last year, he literally came back from the dead twice - read about one time on our My Space blog if you like (www.myspace.com/nyanimalrescue ).
This time was different. I could tell right away. It started with an infection in his tail, which ultimately had to be amputated. His immune system was simply too weakened from a lifetime of struggle to fight off a simple infection. Over the last 2 weeks I watched as his systems started to shut down one by one, despite a regimine of antibiotics. He was always an agressive eater, and ate heartily even the day before he died. I was hand feeding him by then, as his limbs would no longer cooperate for him to catch the bugs himself. The day he died, we spent the morning together on the front porch - him sunning himself, while I drank my coffee and observed him. He did not want to eat that day. I knew... I felt it in my bones, that he would be gone by that evening. I was correct.
The point of this very long story - combined venting and empathy - is that even knowing the condition he came to us in, knowing that it was remarkable that he lived as long as he did, knowing that I had brought him back from the brink more than once, knowing that he had a great life with me - much better than his previous one, and knowing that I did everything I could for him with love and dedication... I still went over all those "should haves" and "what ifs" in my head, still beating myself up over his death.
Likewise, so it goes for you and GB. You did nothing wrong, and everything right. If he had a chance with anyone, it was with you.
Susan <<
So Skeletor was rescued and given dignity despite his mistreatment and deformity, and he lived a comfortable life.
The late Skeletor:
With Gwen the dwarf dying and the issue of dignity being raised, I figured I'd share this story from my friend and rescue colleague Susan. I received this in the wake of Green Bean's demise.
>> Funny how alike we are, beating ourselves up for things we aren't even responsible for, when we should be taking some kind of personal pride in ourselves for at least giving a crap about these unfortunate creatures someone else felt were perfectly discardable.
On Tuesday, a long-term resident here - one we didn't feel needed to be put through the stress of being re-homed - passed away after 1.5+ years with me. He was an adult chinese water dragon nicknamed Skeletor for the living-skull appearance of his head. Most of the flesh had atrophied away from the front of his face (see photo), from him repeatedly battering it against the glass sides of a tank that was too small for him. They don't understand what glass is, so they bash against it trying persistently to get "over there" somewhere, figuring that if they can see it, they can get to it.
He was already an older lizard when we got him in. His face was a mass of blood, scabs and abcesses, and he was emaciated. His immune system was shot to hell from fighting all the infection around his face and in his mouth. We couldn't imagine he'd live for long. I felt so sad for him, so I took him in myself "for as long as it takes." Over the last year, he literally came back from the dead twice - read about one time on our My Space blog if you like (www.myspace.com/nyanimalrescue ).
This time was different. I could tell right away. It started with an infection in his tail, which ultimately had to be amputated. His immune system was simply too weakened from a lifetime of struggle to fight off a simple infection. Over the last 2 weeks I watched as his systems started to shut down one by one, despite a regimine of antibiotics. He was always an agressive eater, and ate heartily even the day before he died. I was hand feeding him by then, as his limbs would no longer cooperate for him to catch the bugs himself. The day he died, we spent the morning together on the front porch - him sunning himself, while I drank my coffee and observed him. He did not want to eat that day. I knew... I felt it in my bones, that he would be gone by that evening. I was correct.
The point of this very long story - combined venting and empathy - is that even knowing the condition he came to us in, knowing that it was remarkable that he lived as long as he did, knowing that I had brought him back from the brink more than once, knowing that he had a great life with me - much better than his previous one, and knowing that I did everything I could for him with love and dedication... I still went over all those "should haves" and "what ifs" in my head, still beating myself up over his death.
Likewise, so it goes for you and GB. You did nothing wrong, and everything right. If he had a chance with anyone, it was with you.
Susan <<
So Skeletor was rescued and given dignity despite his mistreatment and deformity, and he lived a comfortable life.
The late Skeletor:
