I Did It For The Boy

I don't even know where to start. How about?? Wednesday night, last week...

Danny. The Leopard Gecko. His kind hails from Pakistan and Petsmart.

We've been proud gecko owners since June 2008. Danny is the name the boy gave him, as Danny was the first pet of the boy. There was quite a bit of love for Danny. Leopard Geckos are quite friendly, don't bite, and like to crawl on you. They eat worms. Like it warm. And there's a complicated lighting system involved. Other than that, pretty easy.

Ok. One day, Danny is fine. Perhaps a little lethargic, but they get that way before shedding. I thought.. "maybe it's shed time" That's what I said to myself. In my head..not out loud, that'd be weird.

Well, next day, I'm looking at him..he's not looking too good, and his hind legs are limp. Not moving. Nothing, Nada...zero zip. And he's just...looking...bad.

Shit.

Um.

Oh God. Do I? Do I take a 6 inch Gecko to the Vet? But the boy. The boy is like, "Call the Vet."

What do I say? "Oh no...his life isn't worthy of veterinary care (read: $$$$$). ? That's only for things with fur and collars. "

Ok..in hindsight, Yes, I should have said that. But I didn't.

I called the vet. The SAME DOG KILLING VET. Well, he didn't KILL the dog, just, humanely ended his life as I'd asked. But, still...

They got us RIGHT in.

So there we are, with Danny in a shoebox.

And the vet is going on about calcium and UV lights and calcium and in the wild and captivity and it's not your fault and a year and a half is quite a long time and never walk again and you can try to put more calcium on his food and it doesn't look good and broken back and cardiac arrest.

Shit.

Ok. We've also covered that I DO NOT deal with dead things. And I DID NOT want to some morning be dealing with a dead Gecko. But..of course, the thing deserved some dignity and no pain and all that stuff. I mean, he was never going to walk again. Still a creature of God. And my boy loved him. I kind of half whispered "can you actually euthanize a gecko?" I mean, I'm waiting for them to bust out laughing and look at me like: "You freaking idiot!! Who the HELL would actually PAY to euthanize a gecko?? Just take it home and flush it..." Or something along those lines. But no.

"Of course that's certainly an option." he says..

Hmm.

Ok.

I turn to the boy and I tell him the deal. That Danny has to go to heaven. His body is in bad shape and he won't get better and we love him and that's why we need to let him go. And that God shared him with us, and will be so appreciative of how much we loved one of his little creatures (even though I skimped him on calcium apparently..but I tried to give it to him, he didn't like it...I'm rambling) and he'll be with Zack...and oh my...crap.

The tears. He's clutching the shoe box, and tears are dropping on Danny. It was just awful. That little image is burned into my retina. I felt sick. I wanted to punch someone. I mean, I wanted to kick someone's ass. My boy was hurting. And I KNOW what he was feeling, and I hated it for him.

But then he handed the box over. And they took Danny. I didn't want to ask how they did it. Surely...they wouldn't flush him, right?? They'd use medical type stuff, right?

I'll never know.

I go out for the bill.

Which, is basically the whole point in me writing this and sharing it with you all.

I paid $71 dollars to euthanize a six inch long gecko.

The End.