I have neglected my sweet Sammy!
I had fun playing with the image above, but this post is not about graphics manipulation.
It is about life.
A life devoid of passion
Is not a life,
It is an existence.
One morning this week, I woke up late.
I leaped out of bed and raced to the kitchen.
The chameleons had not been misted for twelve hours!
I filled the mister with warm water and started misting Hugo’s cage.
When I got to Sam’s cage, I paid no attention to his whereabouts.
I don’t have the automatic misting system in place yet, so I have to mist manually.
When I put the mister inside the cage, Sam crawled onto the top and onto my hand.
Then, he proceeded up my arm onto my shoulder.
I paid no attention to him since he often crawls onto my hand or arm inside the cage.
When I finished misting, he was investigating my hair and crawling all around my shoulders.
Since he was having such fun, I decided to photograph his adventure.
I found a media card and the camera and walked over to the big mirror in the dining room.
As I looked through the viewfinder, I had no idea whether any of the photos would work in that light.
Immediately, he crawled up my face and held onto my hair.
I suppose he decided there was no foothold there,
so he came back down.
His little claws are sharp!
I really couldn’t see him very well, but I could see that the camera strap was impeding his progress.
When I moved it, he continued down toward my arm.
Finally, he reached my elbow and onto my arm.
I decided since I could no longer see him well that his adventure was over.
He needed his morning bath and a good drink of water,
so I let him crawl onto my arm and off onto a branch in his cage.
I never pick him up, but I let him choose to come to me whenever he likes.
As anyone who has followed me for very long knows,
I am totally shameless.
I realized that I was still dressed in night clothes,
but my passion for the animals rendered
That fact irrelevant.
A number of people have said that they think my attitude is extraordinary
Or that I am brave in the face of death.
Neither is true.
I have always had a passion for whatever I was doing.
Oh, I complain often and loudly about even work that I love,
But, I am not often serious about the complaints,
And voicing my feelings has allowed me to dismiss negativity
And to focus on whatever interested me.
I am not dying.
I am living until I die.
There is a difference, you know.
Passion for life and work
Is that difference.
Sitting around waiting to die
is just not something I can manage to work up a passion for!