Sorin was a rescue from a Petco in Ct. He was in a cage smaller than twenty gallon with nine other beardies, all about 10" long each. The water dish was filthy with green, mossy poop that the employee claimed he had cleaned not more than five minutes ago, as if I was born yesterday. After talking it out with my boyfriend and a lot of convincing, we decided to rescue one - sadly I couldn't rescue them all and that's how we came home with Sorin.
Now I had extra lights and what have you, but didn't have an extra viv and I wanted to wait until Petco had their $1 a gallon sale. So in the mean time I moved my male, Jace, into a pen I had from when I first brought him home with all of his gear and had him all set up. Then I cleaned out Jace's viv and gave it to Sorin.
As he got bigger, Jace got his viv back and Sorin got the pen.
And he was such a photographic little bum!
His tail curved in the air was his trade mark. It's how we always knew he was feeling good.
And he was always climbing things he shouldn't be climbing.
And then the day came when he learned how to climb out of his viv.
It was our fun little thing, in a weird way. He would escape sometime during the day and we'd come home to find him. The first time he did that, he climbed up onto the second self on the DVD rack. Paul only noticed him because the tip of his tail was showing. Another time I found him on top of this stool I used to have sitting next to the orchid Paul had bought me.
He only ever got to go outside a couple of times I am sad to say.
And he adored his tree:
He also grew to love sleeping in his greens dish:
And then May 23rd came. I had taken Sorin out for his usual romp when I noticed he wasn't running around, something he loved to do. After checking his legs we noticed that not only was his back left leg swollen, it felt detached from his body. Scared, I hurriedly made an appointment for him with my vet, Dr. Kenna. It was there that we found out he had septic arthritis. She gave us antibiotics to try and told use to move everything out of his viv so that he couldn't climb and to get him to rest his leg. So we gave him a pile of towels to lay on throughout the day.
He was also thoroughly spoiled.
And then as the first leg healed and he could have a normal life, his front left became swollen and was difficult for him to move on. Slowly his right front also struggled and became swollen. We had to learn to carefully give shots to his back legs.
And then, after his front legs healed, it returned in his left hind leg again. Then, we started to notice tail rot and the very tip was rotting away. It was then that we decided that he was miserable and that this was never going to get any better. There was a small part of me that hoped and prayed the vet would have some cure-all for him that would save him. At this point he was only a year and seven month old. Choosing to put him down was the hardest decision I ever had to make. It was so final, there was no taking it back.
These were his last pictures:
I sang this song to him multiple times before his last visit to the vet and during our last goodbye. "You are my Sor-bor, my only Sor-bor. You make me happy when skies are grey. You never know dear, how much I love you. So please don't take my Sor-bor away." It still bring tears to my eyes. Last night and the night before and probably tonight I know I'll be sleeping with his towel that we brought him to the vet in. The hardest part is seeing the empty viv on the porch and doing the same routines and having to force myself to remember that there is one less now. It breaks my heart. This was a little guy who loved to run around, chase worms, and curl his tail up into the air. He struggled so much trying to catch and eat his worms and he didn't even eat all of them like usual and when I took him out, no coaxing could get him to run, something that he loves to do. I couldn't continue to let him suffer. I love him so much and I don't know what I'll do without him. It's too easy to think of all the things Sorin and I will never have together: a second Thanksgiving and Christmas, I'lld never see how big he'll get. And there are still so many firsts that we'll never share. He's too young, he hasn't even seen two yet. He'll never get the chance to go out in the warm sun again to bask. I wish I had taken him out more. He doesn't deserve to suffer like this. I feel like I haven't done all that I could. I feel like I've failed him. I have to remember that I rescued him from that crowded cage with oversized beardies and poop filled water dish and gave him a better life than what he started out with. I will also have to remember that he'll be with my mom who loved all animals and I know she'll take good care of him, He's by big monster. I'm going to miss the curl of his tail and that cocky, I'm-better-than-you look he always gave. I love you, Sor-bor.
Now I had extra lights and what have you, but didn't have an extra viv and I wanted to wait until Petco had their $1 a gallon sale. So in the mean time I moved my male, Jace, into a pen I had from when I first brought him home with all of his gear and had him all set up. Then I cleaned out Jace's viv and gave it to Sorin.
As he got bigger, Jace got his viv back and Sorin got the pen.
And he was such a photographic little bum!
His tail curved in the air was his trade mark. It's how we always knew he was feeling good.
And he was always climbing things he shouldn't be climbing.
And then the day came when he learned how to climb out of his viv.
It was our fun little thing, in a weird way. He would escape sometime during the day and we'd come home to find him. The first time he did that, he climbed up onto the second self on the DVD rack. Paul only noticed him because the tip of his tail was showing. Another time I found him on top of this stool I used to have sitting next to the orchid Paul had bought me.
He only ever got to go outside a couple of times I am sad to say.
And he adored his tree:
He also grew to love sleeping in his greens dish:
And then May 23rd came. I had taken Sorin out for his usual romp when I noticed he wasn't running around, something he loved to do. After checking his legs we noticed that not only was his back left leg swollen, it felt detached from his body. Scared, I hurriedly made an appointment for him with my vet, Dr. Kenna. It was there that we found out he had septic arthritis. She gave us antibiotics to try and told use to move everything out of his viv so that he couldn't climb and to get him to rest his leg. So we gave him a pile of towels to lay on throughout the day.
He was also thoroughly spoiled.
And then as the first leg healed and he could have a normal life, his front left became swollen and was difficult for him to move on. Slowly his right front also struggled and became swollen. We had to learn to carefully give shots to his back legs.
And then, after his front legs healed, it returned in his left hind leg again. Then, we started to notice tail rot and the very tip was rotting away. It was then that we decided that he was miserable and that this was never going to get any better. There was a small part of me that hoped and prayed the vet would have some cure-all for him that would save him. At this point he was only a year and seven month old. Choosing to put him down was the hardest decision I ever had to make. It was so final, there was no taking it back.
These were his last pictures:
I sang this song to him multiple times before his last visit to the vet and during our last goodbye. "You are my Sor-bor, my only Sor-bor. You make me happy when skies are grey. You never know dear, how much I love you. So please don't take my Sor-bor away." It still bring tears to my eyes. Last night and the night before and probably tonight I know I'll be sleeping with his towel that we brought him to the vet in. The hardest part is seeing the empty viv on the porch and doing the same routines and having to force myself to remember that there is one less now. It breaks my heart. This was a little guy who loved to run around, chase worms, and curl his tail up into the air. He struggled so much trying to catch and eat his worms and he didn't even eat all of them like usual and when I took him out, no coaxing could get him to run, something that he loves to do. I couldn't continue to let him suffer. I love him so much and I don't know what I'll do without him. It's too easy to think of all the things Sorin and I will never have together: a second Thanksgiving and Christmas, I'lld never see how big he'll get. And there are still so many firsts that we'll never share. He's too young, he hasn't even seen two yet. He'll never get the chance to go out in the warm sun again to bask. I wish I had taken him out more. He doesn't deserve to suffer like this. I feel like I haven't done all that I could. I feel like I've failed him. I have to remember that I rescued him from that crowded cage with oversized beardies and poop filled water dish and gave him a better life than what he started out with. I will also have to remember that he'll be with my mom who loved all animals and I know she'll take good care of him, He's by big monster. I'm going to miss the curl of his tail and that cocky, I'm-better-than-you look he always gave. I love you, Sor-bor.
