Per Loss is Hard

RIP, life may end but love is forever. Sleep in peace wake in joy!

 

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Thank you so much, everyone. I really appreciate your comforting words and the awesome coins!

It’s amazing how big a void is left when our pets are no longer with us.

It still seems like somewhat of a dream. I would do anything to chill with him one more time.

But, he’s somewhere where there is an endless supply of hornworms and hammocks, his two favourite things.



For that, I’m happy because he deserves the best.

Erin

 

Sorry for your loss. I lost 2 of my older dogs withing a month of each other. All of our pets are buried in our back yard. I told my wife to have me cremated and my ashes shared with our pets.

 

Sorry to hear of your loss.
Here's one of my many New Zealand 5c pieces featuring the Tuatara.

Tuatara are reptiles endemic to New Zealand. Although resembling most lizards, they are part of a distinct lineage, the order Rhynchocephalia. Their name derives from the Māori language, and means "peaks on the back".

2002

 

Anglo-Saxon sceat, series K/N mule, c. 720-35

 

So sorry to hear about Herbert, Erin. I'm glad it wasn't a prolonged deterioration, I know that would've been tough for you to see.

Steve

 

I'm so sorry, Erin! The loss of a pet is hard .

I've shared this story before but it is fitting...
......

Early morning; reading in bed, awaiting the sunrise. I heard a slight rustling somewhere in the bedroom. Near the closet? I kept still and listened. There it was again, behind the bed! Critters get inside the house all the time; tarantulas, anoles, the occasional snake… more so since my beloved cat died. I really should fix that gap under the door. I wasn't too concerned unless it was a scorpion or mouse, the latter of which has (so far) never been found inside.

I looked but didn't see anything.

It kept happening for a week or two. Early morning rustling, starting near the closet, then behind my bed, then from the other side of the room.

Finally I saw the source. A juvenile male brown crested anole. Every time he heard me move, he froze and was easily overlooked as his color was close to that of my floor (that and I had junk everywhere-- was in the midst of remodeling).

"Hi little guy! Don't be scared," I cooed. He was petrified, of course.

Weeks went by and slowly I learned his routine and gave him a name. At night he lived in a closet, climbing up a long linen skirt and resting there. In the morning, he climbed down and skittered to the bathroom where there was often residual water from the shower. There was also a little crack in the corner where a line of ants constantly came in. He'd go to the shower, drink some water, and line up at the ant buffet. I decided to forego spraying that crack so that Andy would have a ready supply of food. Occasionally an unlucky cricket was part of the fare.

Months passed. Andy became less frightened. Eventually he stopped running away at my approach. I wanted badly to pick him up, let him enjoy the warmth of my hands. He was never comfortable enough with the situation for that intimacy to occur.

I watched as my adopted lizard son grew. His crest began to form. He would posture, do lizard head bob/pressups, and display his dewlap. I'm not sure if he viewed me as a threat or a potential mate. I'd like to think it was a friendly gesture.

With a mother's pride I noted that Andy seemed larger and more robust than his outdoor peers. His color was a little lighter, which based on reading seemed to indicate good health and lack of stress. I always talked to him. I think he liked it.

I worried. Is he going to leave me? He really should find a mate. Should I relocate him to outdoors? What if he can't establish his own turf? Anoles are quite territorial.

After nine months, Andy did leave. I guess he found his way back to the front door. I'd seen him exploring that general area.

I missed him.

One day, I saw a robust light-colored adult male anole come in under the door and head towards the bedroom.

"Andy? Is that you?!"

I couldn't be sure, of course, but I talked to him and he stopped. He didn't run away even when I came very close. He dithered a bit and then went back outside. I think it was him.

A month later I saw him in a territorial showdown with another adult male just outside the front door. They were really going at it. I'm not sure who won; both ran off after an epic battle.

The Andy sightings decreased and eventually I stopped looking for him.

Then one day he popped up in a most unexpected place. My carport is steps away from the front door. I guess he had found his new territory-- my car. I found out as I was driving to work… out popped Andy. He was in the windshield recess and was now clinging to the wiper, holding on for dear life. Oh no! Hang on, Andy! What to do, what to do? I was close to my destination… and couldn't rationalize being late to the meeting to take my anole back home-- if he even survived the return trip. I kept driving. Upon reaching the office he jumped off into a grassy area.

That's the last time I saw him.

I hope he was able to establish a new territory there.

Many other anoles have lived (and died) in my home but none were as special as Andy.

I used to have many pictures of him but they must be trapped in an old computer or old backup drive. The only one I can find at the moment is of his final journey...




MACEDON, Eion
460-400 BCE
AR trihemiobol; 0.74g, 12mm
Obv: goose standing right, head reverted; lizard above
Rev: quadripartite incuse square
Ref: Cf. SNG ANS 287

 

Thanks again, everyone.

@TIF, I love the Andy story. He was such a cute little guy.

I’ve decided that this year, In honour of Herbert, I’m going to try and focus on coins with reptiles on them. The Eion trihemiobol is the top one and, with my first paycheque, I’m hoping to pick one up. I think this will help me a lot.

So, instead of being sad now, I’m excited!

Erin