My Dragon Dilemma

Sometimes, when my anxiety is getting the best of me, I grab a big glass of ice water and sit outside. I live in the Kelseyville Riviera in a cul–de–sac, which means the loudest noises I ever hear are the occasional dogs barking and the garbage truck on Monday mornings. The quiet is vital for my mental health. I can also say that in the moments I crave calm, the serene wind in the trees soothes me like a lullaby.

One evening while gathering my breath, I noticed something. A teal eye the size of a tennis ball was blinking at me from my overgrown blackberry bush.  My heart stopped. Based on the color and size, I knew immediately that it wasn’t a dog or cat. My heart raced with horror.

I tiptoed close to see if I could find the source of the eye. Hands shaking, legs nearly giving up on me, I forced myself forward. My ears perked up with the rustle of the long neglected vines.

It was something completely unexpected.

A baby black dragon with piercing teal eyes flashed me its mouth of small, menacing fangs. I attempted to shield my anxiety to ensure it didn’t attack me. I froze. My insides did backflips, hoping it wouldn’t breathe fire. With all the brush in my backyard, I didn’t want to be the cause of something catastrophic. Lake County definitely didn’t need another fire.

I put my hand out for it to smell me, learning that trick from house pets. I wanted the dragon to know I wasn’t there to hurt it. Just support it and figure out if I could help.

The dragon smelled my hand. Luckily, I didn’t smell like fresh meat or something since I’m a vegetarian. I heard subtle purring and the dragon laid on its back. While laying down, the dragon revealed iridescent scales that seemed to shift between light purple and the darkest of night.

Distracted by the scales and purring, I noticed it was wearing a silver collar. A collar with the name Buffy etched on it with a phone number.

I grabbed the phone out of my dress pocket. I called the number. My heart slowing down as it starts to ring, happy to know there may be a solution. I definitely couldn’t take care of it. I knew that I wouldn’t know where to start or could even afford it. Inflation has made a single avocado $3. Imagine how much I would have to spend on dragon food.

My head swirling with thoughts comes to a halt when a voice appears on the other line.

A deep voice says, “Clearlake Taco Bell. This is Rusty. How can I help you?”

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

Someone put the number of Taco Bell on a dragon? What kind of crazy person would do that?

I bite my tongue and silence my judgments.

My words scrambled, I said, “Uhh, hi… My name is Jordan. I found something in my backyard tonight. I was hoping an employee may know something about it…”

Rusty whispered, “Do you mean Buffy?”

“Yes! She’s in my backyard. Is she yours?”

He sighed in relief, “I knew I should’ve put her in the house. Is she okay?”

I looked at Buffy rolling in the dirt. Her purrs vibrating the ground under her.

I smirk, “She’s fine, Rusty. But, she can’t stay with me. I can’t afford to feed her. My gas tank costs over $70 to fill up. I’m only a substitute teacher and a broke writer.”

He laughs, “Come by the restaurant as soon as possible. We can talk more when you get here.”

He hung up before I could say anything else.

#

Now, Buffy and I are on our way to the restaurant. I wouldn’t really categorize Taco Bell as one, but whatever.

Buffy was easier than I thought to get into the car. It’s hot, so I have turned on the AC.

She immediately reacts by trying to claw out the vents, whimpering in discomfort. My brain scrambles for a solution, turning on the heater. She seems to like that because she’s now in a big ball, purring.

My Led Zeppelin booms from the speakers. At the stoplight, I look over at her and can even make out a little smile on her sleeping face.

I haven’t gotten to know Buffy as much as I would’ve liked. I would’ve loved to give her lots of pets, but maybe Rusty will let me visit. Buffy deserves a home of love and comfort.

We all do.