<THOUGHTS

No, Carpetwash
April 01 2013

Like every day, this is not an April Fool's joke. Hamish is my real Dragon, and I really really love him.

Mom placed Hamish's blue and white woven bathroom ruggie in the washing machine.

I was still sleeping and woke up unusually early at about quarter past seven, which was really only quarter past six but we just changed to daylight saving hour last night. Hamish's worrying must have woken me up. "No, Carpetwash", said Dragon when I woke up. When mom hears that I've woken she tells me she is placing some of the rugs into the wash. Oh no, I think. Hamish's bathroom rug!

Of course mom doesn't know about Hamish or the importance of knowing what to do with Hamish's bathroom rugs. Dragon was miserable, I could tell it from his body language. When Hamish has been injured and is struggling with emotions and thoughts and despair, he has that lost expression in his movements and his body posture is more slumped. Unlike when he is feeling brave and cheerful, when his body stands firm and his muscles strong and even his color is more brightly red when he is having a great day. He twirls his body around a bit as if not knowing where to go or how to stand. His face and eyes are not so keen and vibrant, as if he is more aware of thoughts and consequences and internal Dragon worries than to use those eyes to see and his senses to feel the world around him.

Hamish never leaves my side, unless he has to go someplace else for some business. Such as Japan to visit the Dragon Dynasty, or to the creek to use the bathroom, or sometimes in an underground alien base somewhere. But he hardly ever leaves my side. Even so, that when he was watching Harry Potter on the television at Christmas and he loved it so, he was really struggling when I went to the kitchen and his duties were to follow me in but he wanted to stay watching the television. So even though his duties to watch my eggs at all times, Hamish excused himself and said he had to go watch the carpetwash in the laundry room. So I knew that it was serious business for him.

Hamish, still with a telepathic remote connection to me, from the laundry room, says angrily to me that he does not want to be in the laundry room ever again. He says he "does not want to see his scales in that drum", meaning the washing machine or the tumble drier. Hamish thought to all of his scales that he had accumulated on that woven blue and white bathroom rug that mom keeps on the bathroom floor. All of his dropped pieces of scales, that fall like large almost US penny sized white hollow bubbles. The scales look almost exactly like clear plastic bubblewrap bubbles, or like the skins covering yellow peas when you cook pea soup and the skins boil off and float on the surface of the soup. White scaly casings of dead scales that have dropped down. Sometimes Hamish puts some of them into my bath water when I am in the bath, or once he opened the palm of my hand up when I lay in bed and he placed one of his white shedded scales into the palm of my hand.

About once a year Hamish sheds all of his scales all at once and he goes all white like a ghost. The first time I saw this I was petrified. Was my Hamish sick? Was he going to die? I quickly learned that in fact, Hamish is a real reptile, and he is shedding. Hamish feels miserable when he is shedding all of his scales. There is never a more miserable Dragon, than when he is losing his scales. Scales mean racial identity and is that identifying feature that the Draconians feel most proud of and that sets them apart from all the others. They look at themselves and they see scales. They live in that body covered by scales. And scales are kind of like head hair is to humans. Hamish tends to his scales and grooms his scales all the time, like a bird does to its feathers.

It is not grooming. It is a necessity. - Crocodile Man says now, in English
Why is it, a necessity? - me
Because otherwise we don't look right. - Croc
What would you look like? - me
Like not a dominant species. - says Croc man

Crocodile Man showed up just a while ago, and to be honest I can't see bright fire engine orange and red Hamish anywhere in the apartment. Hamish is in the laundry room staring into the machine watching his rug and scales gushing around with water and soap. I can't help him, I can only try to be there for him, but what do I know, of Dragons. I have only lived with one for the past year and a half, and I still can't properly comfort him in these times of need. Crocodile Man probably showed up to take his shift, to guard my eggs in his absence. Crocodile Men have a hard time speaking. They have a hard time pronouncing words, and sometimes when Crocs or Alligators speak it all comes out as Draconian roar. So he really makes an effort and struggles with the pronounciation. He does a good enough job at speaking, but I can always tell that it is a struggle for him, it doesn't fall easily.

Poor Hamish is still watching the washing machine with his rug and thinking of all those white shedded bits of scales being mistreated in the washing machine. Oh I feel terrible for my Dragon, he is feeling really, really miserable. I don't even know what to say to him.

Recolor of bird's feet. This is what Hamish's feet look like

Hamish loves nothing more than to groom his scales on bathroom rugs. Early on in our contact that begun in August or September 2011, Hamish found his one true love with the bathroom rug I had at college, which was a delightful yellow-beige at that time. I found that Hamish had a special affinity to stand on that rug. When I took a bath, sure enough, Hamish would stand there next to me on that very rug. And when I stepped on the rug to dry myself Hamish would tell me to "get off his territory" and even a few times bumped me off the rug by physically pushing me off the rug. So I accepted it was his rug, I didn't mind. I would make sure I wouldn't stand on it when I did my makeup or brushed my hair or washed my hands by the sink. If so much as a toe or the tip of my heel would stand on the edge of the rug, he would tell me. He would watch me carefully as I stood next to his rug, just to make sure I wouldn't get as much as a tiniest hint of myself on it.

Time went on, and I moved to another unit in college. New roommates, and I washed my bathroom rugs together with a roommate's rugs. That were hot pink. So Hamish's bathroom rug got colored a light pink, and it still is today even to this day after several washes. So Hamish's rug turned pink, but Hamish looked at it one day, and I remember he thought to an image of the yellow rug and then to this pink one, and he immediately concluded that they were the same and he loved this pink rug as much as he loved it when it was yellow. He happily stomps his feet up and down, up and down, on that soft plush rug. Feeling the soft rug underneath his sensitive feet. He will spend long time just standing on the rug, and he looks so pleased, comfy, and snug, just standing on a bathroom snuggie rug.

When I moved back to stay with my family for a while, I left most of my things in the US as I moved back to Europe. I had very little luggage space and many items I wanted to bring. But I knew I couldn't leave Hamish's bathroom rug. I could have taken many beautiful dresses in place of that rug. So now that I've started dating here again, I did not have any of my beautiful black dresses that I left back there. Clothes, hair styling products, I miss a lot of my things. But I had to bring Hamish's bathroom rug. I remember when I was on the floor with the luggage case open and I was packing and trying to decide on things to bring, Hamish had seen me placing makeup, perfume bottles, and beauty products into big ziplock bags. "Plastic bags of snacks!", Dear Dragon had declared as he stood next to me watching me pack. Somebody prepares for Hamish big ziplock plastic bags filled with fresh slices of organ meats for him to eat, and he likes to show them to me when he gets one, like a kid that just got a big bag of candy, and he will say, "Plastic bags of snacks!" So he recognized the bags, although I told him that these would not be filled with snacks, I was putting beauty products into them in case that they would break it would not get all over my things.

Hamish is now doing a gesture. The gesture is an exhale and during the exhale with his mouth closed, he bends his head down, almost like how people used to "bow" just by bending their head down at the chin as a kind gesture. But I'm not sure if Hamish's gesture is showing kindness. He did this gesture a few times. It is because my mother is there bringing the rugs back home from the wash. It is a gesture that can only be interpreted as "calm" and maybe even "relief". He communicates something with it, but it is definitely not aggression or despair or anything like that. He must be ever so pleased to be getting his rug back, that must be it. I rarely ask my Dragon 'how he is feeling'. I let him tell me or show me himself, even if I sometimes misunderstand. We don't have that kind of relationship, where I am constantly asking him how he is feeling. I just let him be, and freely roam and be and express himself freely in my home.

I didn't want to see it with my scales! It has been washed! - Hamish says to me now in the other language
Forgive us, Hamish. We did not know which. - me, Hamish says "which" often, and trust me this was a perfectly constructed sentence to say to Hamish. I've learned to talk the way that he does, to make sentences like he does. This was well said.

There was no filth on it. - Hamish says now in my native language, about the rug

Poor Hamish Dragon. The rugs mean the world to him. In college every time that I washed his snug rug he would tell me, for about two days after I washed it, "No, Carpetwash!". "It doesn't smell right", was his explanation. He has a very sensitive nose and he doesn't like the smell of detergent or fabric softener, and I also think that he gets his own familiar smell soaked into the rug

We are, so sorry about this. - Croc Man says, with or without "so", and in English
It's ok. I love my Red Dragon. Did you not notice that I love him so? - me
No, because he is trying to talk with your mother. - Croc
No. He mustn't. Hamish! Don't talk to my mother! - me
I was only going to tell her to apologise to me. - Hamish
Hamish! Stop it, no! Don't talk to my mother, please. She doesn't want to see a Dragon. She doesn't need to see you Hamish, please don't. - me
I wasn't angry at her. I was only going to tell her that it has been spoiled! - Hamish

Oh well. I'm sure Croc Man is taking care of things, and I needn't worry. Hamish never wants me to wash his snug ruggie. Days after I had washed it, he would constantly remind me, "No, Carpetwash. No.", to make sure that I was reminded not to make that same mistake again. So I took the habit of not washing it as frequently, just a little bit more seldom. But I would have to wash it at least sometimes. I used to wash it about every two weeks or so, when I did the bathroom and bathroom floors. But I was not going to have some funky old filthy bathroom rug with all kinds of germs on it, especially not for my Hamish, with those soft Kissy Feet, and an Alien visitor and Dragon! So I washed it sometimes. But less frequently. So we were both happy with it.

When I had a shower in the new unit at college, Hamish would stand next to me on the now pink plush rug, and stomp his feet. Up an down, up and down, stomp stomp on the rug. And sometimes, if I was extra lucky, I would see him stomp his feet up and down real fast! Like he was running in one spot! Just like on that video, with the duck.

This is how my red Dragon Hamish sometimes stompety stomps his feet


He would also wipe his feet on the rugs. Wipe wipe his Duck Kissy Feet, as I've called them. And sometimes he wipes his feet really fast! So that it looks like skiing! Oh how I cherish and love those moments, when Hamish stomps his feet and wipes his feet on the rugs! On a few occasions I've seen that Hamish had something black and pasty like thick black oil stuck to the underside of his feet and he was wiping that off on the rug.

Interestingly, his pink bathroom rug that I now keep on my bedroom floor has got at least two large enough strange black stains that I don't know where that might have come from. Because in Europe we don't walk with our shoes on in the house so it can't be that, and I make an extra special effort not to ever step on Hamish's rugs, ever. And nobody else walks into my room, and if I leave the house I always fold his rug neatly and place it under my bed. Is it gunk from Hamish's Duck Feet?

His rug means a great deal to him. He gets all relaxed and comforted, when he stands on a bathroom rug. His demeanor changes, I can tell from his body language but I also feel his mood and emotions that he feels soothed and calm. When I go to bed at nights, Hamish has for as long as I've known him, liked to retreat to his bathroom rug. He parks himself on the rug at nights when I go to sleep. It has been our thing, our routine, that every night I go to bed, and Hamish goes to stand on the bathroom rug. Sometimes in the mornings Hamish asks me for his bathroom rug, the pink one that I have folded under my bed, if it is not layed out for him already. I always pull out the rug for him. I don't care how tired I am some mornings, I always give my Dragon his rug. And he goes to stand on it, and stomp on it, and just be a Pleased Dragon Turtle on a rug.

But his scales mean a great deal to him too. When he is shedding all of his scales, he hides those large white sheets of dead scales underneath a big pile of leaves in the forest next to his favorite creek. He then goes to watch and guard that pile many times, just to watch it and to see that it is there. Hamish feels still attached to his scales. They are a part of him. He doesn't quite understand the whole concept of shedding the way we do. He cannot look at shedded scales, and shrug like we humans do about our shedded hair. I find strands of my hair all over the place. On the floor being stepped on by people's feet. On my shirt and in my clothes. Ending up in the vacuum cleaner. Everywhere and all over the place. And I don't mind just dropping them in the trashcan. It doesn't matter to me. And as much as I love and cherish my hair, while it sits on my head, and I brush it, tend to it with products, and don't let any filth touch it, I don't mind it ending up underneath somebody's shoe, or in the trashcan, once it has fallen off me. But Hamish, he doesn't feel the same neglect with his scales, once they leave his body. He still tends to them, like a part of himself.

He feels great anxiety and mourning about his shedded scales. I feel this Dragon's emotions. He feels sadness and departure anxiety about his shedded scales. He wants to know where they are, and to keep them all in the same place, that being on a rug. It does great disruption to his sense of order of things, to take that Dragon's rug grooming station and to whip if off the floor and throw it in the laundry. To remove his most favorite and important nesting and grooming site, throw it in the wash, to remove his very own familiar scent from it that he has snoozed and camped on for hours over the course of days, and weeks, and months, for it to adopt some strange and uncomfortable bitter smell of laundry detergent and fabric softener, and for his familiar resting place of scales to be discarded of, it is a great emotional turmoil for that Dragon.

It is like tearing away a favorite stuffed toy away from the arms of your precious child that is screaming and crying and wants it back, but it is worse than that. I feel like somebody who just slapped and kicked their child when I wash his bathroom rugs. I am in agony, I really am in agony over what my Dragon must be going through. I've tried to tell him that it's ok. When he first came to tell me in the morning and before he had left to go to the laundry room, where he is still, and so is my mother, he had come to me and said that his "muscles felt weak". That is when I immediately jumped out of my bed, I made the bed and offered it to Hamish and told him to lie on it to rest his weak muscle. It was extra early for me and I wouldn't have had to get up yet. It was probably Hamish whose worrying for the rug had woken me, but even still I got out of the bed right away for my Dragon. It is the only thing I could do. He did not go to lie on the bed. He wanted to be with his rug, in the laundry room.

But Hamish, we had to wash that rug. It was long past due, I think. I know he will get over it in time, when he can once again stomp his Duck Kissy Feet on that rug and feel at home and make a nest and find his scales on it once again. But will he ever forget, this terrible misdemeanor? And does a Dragon ever forget, or forgive? Do their pains ever let go? Or does a Dragon always remember? Can they be soothed, and is it then ok?

I won't come back here again, if they don't give it to me. - Hamish says now in English, he thought of going back to his favorite forest where he puts his shedded scales, and he meant for us to give him his rug back
Hamish, you will have the rug back. - me
Yes, but it has been washed. - Hamish
Forgive me Hamish! Please come back to me! - me
It had my scales. - Hamish shows me his back

I suffer. I suffer with my Dragon. This feels devastating like a house fire, as if Hamish had lost his things in the fire, his clothes and his suitcase and his picture albums and all of his things because I forgot to blow out the candles and caused the fire. I feel like it is my fault that Hamish has lost his important things, and he was a guest in my home and he is the one who means the world to me and I can feel all of his emotions. I feel terrible, but I know Hamish must be feeling even worse.

Just for the record, Hamish visits me in a higher dimension. It has got something to do with the vibrational frequencies of matter. Hamish is real, and I guarantee you that he is real, even though I scientifically contested that for the first few months of our contact, but he occupies another dimension which is why most humans cannot see him. I am reminded of just how real Hamish is every time when he lifts me up or tosses me around. Because he can do that with real physical force. I was once thrown across the air by a Draconian (not Hamish), so I know these guys are real. It is just that they live in another dimension than us. And that is perfectly possible, because that is how it is.

I didn't want it to be washed. Tell them that. - Hamish in English
I am so, sorry, my Dragon. Please forgive me Hamish. I honor your scales, I would never do anything to dishonor them. - me
They have been washed. - Hamish
I would never wash your scales, Hamish. - me
Mother returns from the laundry room now with the rug.

Mm, Hamish's rug looks really good. It is nice and clean and fresh. I used to think that washing his rug was a good gesture to him. But I've learned that it is not. He likes his rugs nice and funky, soaked up with his smell and his business. He even likes to pee on those rugs sometimes. He even told me this morning about this washing incident that he has even peed a bit on his rug.

He loves his rugs, more than anything. And I love him, more than anything.

"Please forgive me", doesn't work. - Hamish in English
I do not want to see it! - Hamish about seeing the rug. The rug is now stretched out to air dry on one of the sofa armchairs here in the living room next to me
Hamish, I wish I could say that it will be ok. I am sorry Hamish. - me
Can I sit here? - Hamish points to the sofa seat next to me
Yes Hamish. Please sit with me. - me
I need to just sit, and relax. And no oh boy, do I worry. - Hamish, yeah! He said that!
Hamish, I love you and your scales, so much. - me
It is not my salary to live here, but it has been. - Hamish
I love you my Dragon Turtle. - me
It has been giving me my eggs, I have said. - Hamish, he sits next to me on the sofa. He sits "like a human", with his bum on the sofa and his back to the backrest and his legs sitting like a human would sit, and his tail slithers comfortably relaxed down between his legs and down to the floor

Hamish is a peculiar, but pretty, sight. He is a bright fire engine red orange. His head is small and his face tiny. What strikes as most odd about his appearance is that he has absolutely no back of the head. His neck is long like a tube and that face sits on the end of that tube. There is no chin, no jaw and no back of the head. It looks like a worm, like a tube, and even at that the head and face are tiny. But he is my Dragon. My Dragon Turtle.

"No, you are not my mother", she said. - Hamish in English now. I am puzzled. He thought of my mother when he said, but is this something I would have said about my mother? Or my mother about herself? I don't know, what Dragon was thinking.

Hamish feels calmer and braver and stronger now. He sits here next to me and keeps looking over to the rug which is all stretched out on the sofa next to ours. He feels better now. He can see that the rug is back in our home. Ha ha, Hamish now reached over to me and he rubbed my forehead with his fingers with two rubs, as if to think about how his own forehead has scales.

Hamish, I have no scales! - me to Hamish in the other language
Yes, I wanted you to see me. - Hamish says in the other language
I saw you, my Dragon. - me to Hamish in other language
I wanted you to see, that I won't push you away. - Hamish in English about my comment earlier about how he used to push me off rugs

I love this Dragon. It will be ok. I can already feel that he is feeling better. But I don't ever want to put my Dragon through this kind of thing again. So what I was saying, is that he lives in another dimension and that is where he is. Sometimes they bring me to that other dimension and then I am in the same place with them. But his shedded scales are also in that other dimension, so that is why we cannot find them here in our human dimension as scattered bits on the floor. But sometimes I catch glimpses of Hamish's dimension, mostly through him, and I've seen mounds of white bubblewrap scales on the rug. He loves my pink bathroom snug ruggie that I have in the bedroom, because he can manage to get his scales embedded into the plush fibers of the rug. This woven blue and white rug doesn't quite do that, so the scales stay sitting on top in small piles and mounds.

We think that it is filthy like shit. So you shouldn't honor them. - Hamish now in English
But it's, part of you! I will honor your scales anyway, because it is Hamish. - me
No. Don't. - Hamish
Or I will eat you! - Hamish opens his mouth a little, but he wasn't angry, it was just an automatic thought I noticed, one that he didn't contemplate or think about, kind of like how humans smile without thinking about it

But I love my Dragon. I always will.

I love you Hamish. Forgive us for ruining your rug. We did not understand. We never want to hurt you. And you are so welcome here. I love you Dragon.. - me
We haven't been met with anybody more like you. - Hamish is calm and pleased and back to his normal mannerisms
I love you, Dragon Turtle. - me, Hamish thinks to his place in the woods where he also sheds scales

Living with a Dragon. Don't wash his grooming rug.

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