Now, part of the reason I feel so strangely about buying animals is because we tend to come across animals that need a home. This is how I happened to adopt Joey The Mean Hamster (a bad, bad idea) and the gecko that I named Robes Pierre.
I’d been oogling lizards for what was probably 10 years before we came across this gecko, who was owned by a kid who worked at the local pet store who had taken him when one of his friends had died (got that? He was third-hand goods). The Daver and I had been pricing out just what a gecko costs to set up when this kid offered us this gecko. Being the kind of people who take people up on these weird offers, Dave went to pick him up that night.
And Robes Pierre came our into lives already a geriatric. A scaly geriatric. And full of The Awesome.
He was never an awesome pet because he snuggled you or sought your attention, or even because he really gave a flying shit about you at all. He was awesome because he was neat to watch. I already have the world’s neediest animals, so I really didn’t need anything else clamoring for my attention.
Robes Pierre died over the weekend and although I knew that it was coming, I am still much more saddened by his ascent to, well, wherever it is that lizards go when they die.
Rest in Peace, Robes Pierre. You’re more missed than even you’d think.