I have a pet, and his name is Cooper. I've had him for about two years, after I found him wandering through the English countryside. He's kinda big, but I haven't measured him because I think he would consider that impolite, and last time I tried to do so he almost burned me alive.
Did I mention he's a dragon? Because he totally is.
And I don't mean one of those big lizards that people call "Komodo dragons", this here is the real deal. The bastard can fly, breathe fire and kidnap princesses on a weekly basis (very handy when I desperately need a date, but now I'm technically at war with at least 6 European countries). I think dragons are good pets, since they're intelligent (we often discuss about economy and politics, although he never gives good arguments for his love of gold and hatred of the monarchy), helpful (he always tries to help me clean the house, but it's rather impractical) and a great conversation topic.
Me, last weekPeople say that pet lovers live longer (what a cheesy rhyme) and I'd have to agree, since I know for a fact that dragons tend to burn people alive and that's not the kind of creature I'd have as an enemy.
As a last point I think may be important, I need to mention that I'm a horrible liar and may be actually drunk at the moment.
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