![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Bit sensitive.
Sep. 26th, 2009 10:17 pmI was in a great mood. I'd spent afternoon goofing off with my very very early Christmas present, playing Phantom Hourglass. I hadn't put down the system in four hours and when Reid called I realized I'd not eaten or used the facilities in all that time. So I decided to take a break and spend a little time off. I searched the kitchen, singing happy Wind Waker themes, looking to see what sounded good to eat, and then discovered one of the potatoes more resembled a garden in a grocery bag, and went to ask my grandmother what she thought of it. And then I realized what I'd nearly stepped on.
We have the cutest little pink leopard-spotted geckos around here. Most of the time when you find them inside it's because they're small enough to slip under the door, so the only ones you ever see in the house are quite young and quite small and exhibit a very high degree of cuteness with their relatively huge heads and gigantic eyes. My grandmother doesn't like them because they're more than a little see-through, which is often a mildly creepy attribute in something with a small enough body size for the heart to be visible. Unfortunately this one was emphatically dead, his little head crushed, and split down the belly. At least I know it wasn't me that killed him - he'd already developed a good case of rigor mortis by the time I found him.
I'll flush an ex-goldfish and I'll throw a deceased spider in the trash, but this little guy just looked like a tiny chunk of dead meat, and it seemed too much a waste, so I scooped him gently off the floor and decided I'd do the best I could for him; I'd put him out in the grass so he could be food for somebody else. And so I did, and I wished him the best of luck next time around, if he got another turn, and I found I wasn't singing after that.
Oh well.
We have the cutest little pink leopard-spotted geckos around here. Most of the time when you find them inside it's because they're small enough to slip under the door, so the only ones you ever see in the house are quite young and quite small and exhibit a very high degree of cuteness with their relatively huge heads and gigantic eyes. My grandmother doesn't like them because they're more than a little see-through, which is often a mildly creepy attribute in something with a small enough body size for the heart to be visible. Unfortunately this one was emphatically dead, his little head crushed, and split down the belly. At least I know it wasn't me that killed him - he'd already developed a good case of rigor mortis by the time I found him.
I'll flush an ex-goldfish and I'll throw a deceased spider in the trash, but this little guy just looked like a tiny chunk of dead meat, and it seemed too much a waste, so I scooped him gently off the floor and decided I'd do the best I could for him; I'd put him out in the grass so he could be food for somebody else. And so I did, and I wished him the best of luck next time around, if he got another turn, and I found I wasn't singing after that.
Oh well.
