Where did you and you partner get your reptile babies?
ooh, this is gonna be a little long because i LOVE talking about me babies!!!
Horatio Hornboa (Red Tail Boa)
Hoary was our first reptile ever! We got her from an acquaintance who was planning on breeding snakes for profit, but then decided not to and needed to rehome many of the snakes she had procured for that purpose.
We’ve had for about two and a half years now, I think? When we got her, she was the size of a statement necklace, but now she’s a big ol’ gal that needs a seven foot tank!
Hoary is very adventurous, and loves to climb and explore during her out-of-tank time. She was named after Horatio Hornblower. She’s my beautiful long daughter and I love her very much.
The Admiral (Leopard Gecko)
We got the Admiral and Terry at the same time, several months after we got Hoary. They belonged to a very dear friend of ours who had cherished them for many years, but realized that for various reasons, they were no longer able to give them the care they needed.
The Admiral is a saucy boy who loves to curl up in his silk-lined gorb (gecko orb) or go into full-on pancake mode against his heat pad. His sleepy-feets are in a league of their own.
His full name is Admiral Wolverine Lightning-Bolt, but we never call him that. He’s my ridiculous decadent son and I love him very much.
Terry (Leopard Gecko)
Like I mentioned before, we got Terry and the Admiral at the same time. She was named for Terry Pratchett.
Terry’s a lot older than the Admiral is, and is a bit of a special needs pet. She has something akin to gecko vertigo, so her head is always tilted to the side, and she has the tendency to walk in circles. She also has bad depth perception, as each of her eyes has something wrong with it. But she gets around her tank just fine, and we’ve developed a system of hand-feeding that really works well for her! According to our vet, her standard of living hasn’t been impacted by her health problems.
Terry’s very friendly, and likes to fall asleep in the most ridiculous positions. She’s also lost her tail before, which means her new one is very short and fat. I think it looks like a little turnip. She’s my sweet old lady and I love her very much.
Yuri Plizardsky (Southern Alligator Lizard)
Yuri was given to us by a homeless woman we know, who took him away from her boyfriend, who had found (caught?) him and was keeping him in an unheated cardboard box. We’ll have had him a year this coming fall.
For an alligator lizard, Yuri is uncommonly docile; we weren’t totally sure on the ethics of keeping him, but our vet advised us that with his temperament, he’s probably better off just staying with us. So, here he stayed.
Yuri hates my phone, and will scream at it if he notices me trying to take a picture of him. He doesn’t understand how glass works, but loves finding new places to burrow in his tank. He was named after Yuri Plisetsky. He’s my special grumpy boy and I love him very much.
Fortune favoures the brave, sir,” said Carrot cheerfully.
“Good. Good. Pleased to hear it, captain. What is her position vis à vis heavily armed, well prepared and excessively manned armies?”
“Oh, no one’s ever heard of fortune favouring them, sir.”
“According to General Tacticus, its because they favour themselves,” said Vimes. He opened the battered book. Bits of paper and string indicated his many bookmarks. “In fact, men, the general has this to say about ensuring against defeat when outnumbered, out-weaponed and out-positioned. It is…” he turned the page, “ ‘Don’t Have A Battle.’
The idea that there is a single ‘normal’ language, a common currency shared equally by all members of society, is an illusion. Any actual language consists of a highly complex range of discourses, differentiated according to class, region, gender, status and so on, which can by no means be neatly unified into a single homogenous linguistic community. One person’s norm may be another’s deviation: 'ginnel’ for 'alleyway’ may be poetic in Brighton but ordinary language in Barnsley. Even the most 'prosaic’ text of the fifteenth century may sound 'poetic’ to us today because of its archaism. If we were to stumble across an isolated scrap of writing from some long-vanished civilization, we could not tell whether it was 'poetry’ or not merely by inspecting it, since we might have no access to that society’s 'ordinary’ discourse; and even if further research were to reveal that it was 'deviating,’ this would still not prove that it was poetry as not all linguistic deviations are poetic…We would not be able to tell just by looking at it that it was not a piece of 'realist’ literature, without much more information about the way it actually functioned as a piece of writing within the society in question.
…'Poetry’ in this sense depends on where you happen to be standing at the time. The fact that a piece of language was 'estranging’ did not guarantee that it was always and everywhere so: it was estranging only against a certain normative linguistic background, and if this altered then the writing might cease to be perceived as literature.
Terry Eagleton, Literary Theory: An Introduction