We lost a dog a couple of weeks ago, as you may have read. This week, we thought we lost another four-legged friend. A cat knocked over a cage, shattering it, then attacked our sweet baby bearded dragon. We found the dragon, looking shaken and acting near death on the floor. We've only had her for about a month, but I've already grown quite attached to her. I was sure she was going to die that night. I held her, hoping she would not die. The next morning, my boy reported she was dead for so she seemed to be. We mourned her. The thoughts of what I could have done to avoid another death haunted me as we tried to do fun, family activities that day. That night, my boy discovered the beardie was actually alive. She's acting now like she's going to live. We view her survival as a miracle.
This may seem like a trivial incident to an outsider, but it was not to us. It is a frightening thing to come so near loss of any sort after suffering so much of it. I think that's true of anyone who has had a series of losses. There are few things in life more frightening than the fear of more pain associated with loss. We're breathing easier now that we know she'll be okay. But I still feel shaken with the reminder that pain can come at any time, in any way, even from unexpected sources.
