Well, not really homeless per se. I’m staying at Mom’s waiting to be able to move in to the new place–some minor delays, but all is well. Almost. Mike, my iguana, died yesterday from severe dermatitis and parasitic infection. He was able to hold on for quite a while, and he was beginning to do a lot better with constant care and attention, but he just didn’t have the strength in him to fight anymore. I was holding him after he soaked in the tub when he pulled himself up my arm to my elbow, tucked his little head up against me as if to cuddle next to me, and stopped breathing. I couldn’t help but cry off and on most of the day. It’s my fault, I know, but I guess maybe he forgave me? I dunno. Mom offered to get me another iggy, but I can’t replace Mike–he was so well-tempered and loved being around people. I’m not ready for another iggy–not yet–not for a long time. If anyone is interested, I’m having a quiet ceremony for him in the backyard at the new house after moving in. Mike was really special, and I’m going to miss him.
I can’t really think of much else to say about it. I feel kinda like Forrest Gump when Bubba died. If there’s more I have to say about it, I’ll amend.