[Urgent Request] How to Take Care of an Abandoned Dragon?

1

That day I found a plastic bag in a convenience store that had been dumped in the corner of the road.

It's not unusual to throw anything away.

Volunteers in the area will clean it up.

I don't have the energy to take it home and throw it away on purpose.

And it's not like people are that good either, because I approached that vinyl because it was supposed to have my mouth tied and it was supposed to only be garbage in it and it was moving with gossip.

I opened my plastic mouth when I heard a story from my neighbor's grandmother about the matter.

My crushed eyes are looking up at me.

"Yikes!

Looking at me, it, it rang.

"It wasn't a cat"

My neighbor's grandmother told me the other day that she had a kitten voice in the garbage dump, so when she looked for that figure with interest in mind, how could she have been dumped as raw garbage alive?

Can you be responsible enough to keep it, I'm honestly not sure.

But not so cold as to overlook it, I remember the story, and this is how the previous owner irrationally threw it away, I could help the creature.

But that wasn't the adorable thing about kittens, it was reptile eel lizards.

Although I was a student, I thought if I were a lizard, I could take care of it in the tank I used to use when I had goldfish.

"Uh, lizard? In this case, it's usually cats and dogs."

The Demon King (Boss), who came home and ruled my house, told me that when I went through the conversation.

"But not snakes?

It's not a leg. "

"Here it is, see"

"Yoo-hoo!

As I said, I took the lizard I picked up from the vinyl and showed my stomach to my mother.

There were four legs stuck together back and forth to the extent of my apologies.

I don't care, but you sound lizard.

"Aren't you poisonous?

My mother expressed that doubt without paying particular attention to the lizard squealing.

"I looked it up lightly, but he said this type wasn't poisonous."

"But lizard bait is the only worm, isn't it?

Who the hell thinks you're gonna bait?

"It's me, though.

But it looks like vegetables or something, and if I can't feed you under any circumstances, I might ask my mother, but then you just have to raise the vegetables. "

After such a slow exchange, I hurried to refer to the information on the internet so that my senior pet, the three-haired cat, Pong, wouldn't get stuck and killed, and I had a protected address for the Tokagu-Gonske.

The day after that.

Mr. Gonske, my grandfather discovers me trying to escape and relaxing in Pong's mouth.

I protected him where his grandfather would soon burn him whole.

"Grandpa, please don't eat me because I'm my pet"

"Gyarurururu ~"

Gonske leaks a powerless squeal in my hand.

Our grandfather is a half of subhuman and human.

By the way, it is a splendid oak whether the blood of the subhuman has won.

Born between such an Orc grandfather and an Orga grandmother is a human and decathlon looking father from anywhere.

By the way, it seems that his father's daughter-in-law and our demon king's mother is bleeding with lies or real angels.

My maternal grandmother is an angel, and my grandfather is like a demon.

Apparently, that's because I've never met his maternal grandparents.

My mother said that my grandparents, who ran off in forbidden love, then made my mother and gave her a strict education, but I met my father and fell in love. But my mother was opposed to marriage, so she ran off with her father about all the depressing lives she had ever had.

It's a genetic mystery, isn't it?

After that, he went on to live with his paternal grandparents.

I don't know if it is insulated, or if my maternal grandparents are already dead, but there is currently no interaction anyway.

By the way, it's me all mixed up like that, but I hear my father's blood was thick.

He is a man of ordinary appearance.

"What, I thought it was a snack"

Give up a hundred steps, I know it's a pong snack, but don't flaunt your cat snack.

"Write your name properly"

No, because it's not a writing instrument.

That's how I check on Gonske.

Unsurprisingly, he doesn't appear to have been injured.

A pong at my feet stares at me with hateful pride.

I got you a deserter, look, praise me.

Praise now.

I told you I'd make you moff.

I have no choice but to brush today with a toothbrush that I have not thrown away in a long time.

In the meantime, Mr. Gonske rests in the tank and looks good.

There are no injuries, you simply look tired, and most importantly, the neighborhood animal hospital is only open this afternoon.

But you didn't seem to have to worry.

A few minutes later it started working fine in the tank.

And Mr. Gonske stares at me standing in the pond over the tank.

And if you think about what you're going to do, stick it on the side of the tank and twist it up to the front of the ceiling - lid, which is closed perfectly except for the yotayota and air hole.

Earlier I saw what he was going to do, Mr. Gonske opened the lid from the inside by changing its tail into a human hand.

No, when I say I opened it, I have a saying.

I pushed it open.

I see, this is how you escaped. You're clever.

Or is lizard magical these days awesome?

There are people who can use breed improvement or something like that.

When I was impressed, Mr. Gonske stared at me with his face out of the tank.

I thought I'd get away with it right away, but I don't have that bare look.

Am I wary of Pong?

And so that I could notice that pong, when I squealed with a crouched voice because I was old enough, I felt terrified, and Gonske approached me.

Do you know what cats say?

Also, the pong rang.