Thursday was epically epic of epically epic proportions. I started the day off with a mega fun horror make-up session with the wonderful Sam Brewster. Lets just say there was a lot of gash to be had. I was the 'Angry Princess' from Thirteen Ghosts. It was definitely a site walking through Stockton Riverside college half naked and covered in blood. It's all fun and games though isn't it? You only live once! Once I'd managed to get all the blood and make-up off it was tattoo time!!
My friend Kat got Moominpapa tattooed on her ankle and it's actually amazing! Then it was my turn. I was getting my crested gecko finished off on my left wrist. It's the beginning of a sleeve but there is a story behind why I chose to get a crestie tattooed in the first place...
4 years ago I was working for North-East Exotic Pets and had totally fallen in love with reptiles, particularly lizards. I was young and naive and wanted to save the world. I saw a tiny crestie in very poor condition ( advanced MBD) in a pet shop that will not be named but is on Borough Rd, Middlesbrough ;). Me, being me and thinking I could save the world commandeered the little guy and decided to raise him and give him as good a life as he could have.
His name was George.
After a few months, lots of vets visits and help from friends. George was showing signs of improvement and I was so over the moon. The poor little guy fought through his breathing problems, even his crest was beginning to look spiked and he was gaining his 'sticky pad' feet back. He was hunting and acting like a normal crestie. I was so happy I cried.
A couple of months later George lost his fight. Walking out of the vets that day I vowed to myself never to rescue another animal and commemorated his memory with the tattoo. That was 4 years ago and I've finally gotten him coloured in. I can breathe a sigh of relief and put him to rest in my mind.
As selfish as it is, I'm not cut out for direct animal rescue as it's far too heartbreaking. That's what my tattoo is there to remind me of. I mustn't put myself through the heartache ever again.
His name was George.
After a few months, lots of vets visits and help from friends. George was showing signs of improvement and I was so over the moon. The poor little guy fought through his breathing problems, even his crest was beginning to look spiked and he was gaining his 'sticky pad' feet back. He was hunting and acting like a normal crestie. I was so happy I cried.
A couple of months later George lost his fight. Walking out of the vets that day I vowed to myself never to rescue another animal and commemorated his memory with the tattoo. That was 4 years ago and I've finally gotten him coloured in. I can breathe a sigh of relief and put him to rest in my mind.
As selfish as it is, I'm not cut out for direct animal rescue as it's far too heartbreaking. That's what my tattoo is there to remind me of. I mustn't put myself through the heartache ever again.
