light domes




I came home today to the smell of burning. I ran to my reptile room and found one of my beardie’s lights had fallen into the enclosure and was roasting the paper towels inside. The light was a dome fixture being held up by an Exo Terra light bracket which sticks to the side of a glass enclosure with sticky adhesive. I quickly removed my beardie (thank God she was inside her house and not under the light) and took out the burned sections of paper towels. Then I heard a crackling noise, and upon further investigation, the heat of the lamp cracked the bottom of my 40 gallon enclosure and the crack was continuing to spread as I watched. I keep my enclosures on the carpeted floor, so this could have been so much worse. My house could have been in flames if I’d gotten home any later. This is NOT the first time one of these brackets has failed on me. I have another that I had to patch up with wall mount sticky pads, however I’ve removed that one as of today. Look online for reviews of this product and other people have had the same thing happen. Burned clothes, burned floors, someone’s turtle was almost electrocuted when the adhesive failed and the entire light fixture fell into the aquarium. It’s the heat from the lamp that causes the adhesive to dry up and fail over time. Exo Terra is well aware of this and their only response is to offer you more adhesive in the mail. They say there’s no guarantee or warranty on this light bracket.

If you have this bracket, please trash it immediately. If you’re looking for a replacement, Zoo Med sells a similar bracket with a base that you tuck under the enclosure, no adhesive whatsoever. Keep your beardies safe.


Inej looked at her strange crew, barefoot and shivering in their soot-stained prison uniforms, their features limned by the golden light of the dome, softened by the mist that hung in the air. What bound them together? Greed? Desperation? Was it just the knowledge that if one or all of them disappeared tonight, no one would come looking? 


Honey you’re familiar like my mirror years ago
Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword
Innocence died screaming, honey ask me I should know
I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door

lokthaire  asked:

So I have a question if you're willing to divulge the information (and it's perfectly understandable if you don't wish to!), but a friend and I were having a discussion about reptiles and we got talking about Iguanas and although we were both youngish at the time you would see them EVERYWHERE cheap and being panned as these great animals (to ME Iguanas are a reptile for masochists) but anyways, this lead to us realizing that Tegu are starting to become the new iguana.. 1/2

2/2 they’re starting to become readily available, cheap, and have a cool factor to them. So if possible -and any larger reptile owner feel free to add to this! Would you be willing to tell of what your weekly, monthly, and yearly expenses as well as anything else that popped up that you didn’t expect just to show people that it’s not just a cool looking animal but a potentially and certainly expensive reptile to own? I understand this can be a personal topic and understand not wanting to share.

OH MY GOD I FEEL THE SAME WAY tegus really do not need to become the new iguanas. This is a fantastic question and I’m thrilled to answer it.

SO. Weekly expenses… don’t really work out because a lot of purchases are made in bulk (food, etc.) every month or couple of months, but here’s a basic overview of how much things cost the first year I had her. Well. If I’d done things ideally- remember, I was foolish and tried to free roam her. HAD I done things appropriately with a cage, here’s how much it would have been. As it was, I did end up spending more than this trying to make free roaming work. Which most of the time it absolutely does not and I’m glad I stopped when I did.

Enclosure- I spent about 130ish on the grow tent and another 60ish bucks in materials to fix it up. That is absolutely the cheapest tegu setup you can make, and it’s not ideal for everyone- most enclosures you should plan for the 600+ dollar range. A PVC cage from a place like BeegerBoxes runs about a grand. I buy two 60 dollar lightbulbs a year, plus another 11 for her halogens and 10 for her CHE. The four dome lights cost me about 60 in total. The substrate I use costs 66 bucks every time the entire thing gets changed out. The swimming pool was about 25 and her water dish was I wanna say like… 20? Her big fake log was 35 and… ok I have no idea how much that footstool she stole is, but the crinkle tube was about 10 bucks. 

Total initial setup cost: 527 (in nearly ALL cases it will be more, I just lucked out with the grow tent idea.)

Then there’s vet checks! I needed a carrier, and the one I liked best (has a harness clip, comfy fleece pad, and places for heat packs if necessary) ran me about 35. I spent about 80 a visit and she goes at least once a year.  But wait! She hurt her lip! Add another 200 in followup visits and medication! I keep a few hundred bucks in an emergency savings account for vet visits. That’s non-negotiable. I put that aside in the first year I had her- it’s sitting pretty at 400 plus interest. 

By the end of the first few months, I’d spent about $832. Factoring in the savings account, that’s $1232. That’s not even including Juju OR the nonessentials. All the extra stuff? That cost more.

Then the food. I have some receipts for this- in the first year alone, Kaiju ate about 60 dollars’ worth of rats, about 100 dollars’ worth of reptilinks, and god only knows how much fruits, veggies, fish, and other stuff I could get at the grocery store. Let’s call the annual food bill 240? I might be lowballing that. So by the end of the first year, that puts her at like… $1492. Almost fifteen hundred dollars in the first year alone. Over twelve months, that works out to about $124 a month. Putting that in perspective: that’s about the cost of two additional Comcast bills. It’s like paying for two extra internet connections from a company that sees price gouging as a way of life. Can you afford two extra Comcast bills an entire month for a year? If no, then probably don’t get a tegu.

Now, that does peter down over the years- I don’t start from scratch every summer. But I do change out that bedding four times a year (or more if she doesn’t brumate), and I do buy two new MVBs every year- those are the 60 dollar lightbulbs. And she still eats probably about 300 dollars of food a year. She also gets an annual wellness visit. So that makes the minimum yearly cost about $764 (the ASPCA averages small dogs to be about $580 per year, to put that in perspective) and that’s again not counting extra stuff I buy to make her life more interesting. That’s about $64 a month… which is almost one additional Comcast bill. Can you afford an additional Comcast bill every month for the next 10+ years? Tegus are not cheap pets to maintain; to have a good quality of life, they need some seriously good care. There’s ways to do it cheaper, but if you’re impulse-buying a big reptile, you very likely do not have the know-how to do safely! You can certainly breed and grow much of your own food- that’ll help save money- but that also has initial startup costs, and requires the time and space that a lot of people just don’t have. I’m not saying they aren’t amazing pets- I mean, Juju’s the best thing to ever happen to me- but I am saying that they’re a commitment that shouldn’t be undertaken lightly.

And THEN there’s another monthly cost: Energy bills. Mine are included in my rent so I don’t actually know how much that is. So I can’t be much help there, unfortunately!  But that can get really expensive.

TL,DR: First year? Two extra Comcast bills per month. Rest of her life? One extra Comcast bill per month. If you can’t commit to that, then don’t get a tegu.

Lost and Found: Coda

Dean can still smell the smoke.

In the car for hours on end, there’s nothing but silence and low music and road noise, Jack occasionally asking a quiet question from the back seat and Sam’s equally low answers. All that and the stink of char, gasoline, and woodsmoke. It’s a familiar smell. He’s been burning bones and bodies for most of his life, but this.

This is different.

Even when they stop for the night somewhere in Montana, the stench follows him. He has vague hopes of washing it out in the shower, but the water pressure is terrible, and the smell clings in his nose and eyes. He can’t even muscle up the energy to scrub harder to get it out of his hair; his limbs feel weighted down.


The name floats like a whisper through his brain and he squeezes his eyes shut, tries to block it out. His knuckles are still raw and sore from earlier, but he’s tempted to punch the shower wall anyway. Might help. Probably won’t.

With a sigh he shuts off the water and starts going through the motions of getting ready for bed. By the time he steps out of the bathroom, dressed again in his day-old smoke-filled clothes, only the minty taste in his mouth lets him know that yes, at least he brushed his teeth.

Sam’s busy explaining a toothbrush to Jack, but turns his big puppy eyes and long face on Dean when he emerges. “Your turn,” Dean grunts.

“You go,” Sam says to Jack, handing him a ziplock bag full of Sam’s own soap and shit. “You think you got it?”

Jack nods, slow. “Yes, I think so. Thank you.” And disappears into the bathroom.

Silence falls again, thick and suffocating, full a tension that means Sam’s going to break it soon, try and get Dean to talk. Dean clamps his teeth firmly shut and looks at the two beds. There’s a roll-away in here somewhere, but –

“I’ll sleep in the car,” he says, and makes for the door.

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