I named my little dragon Bernie (get it? I'm so funny!) and I took him on a lot of outings with me, often he was wrapped in a baby blanket, usually one that was once mine.
When I heard fairy tales about vicious, fire-breathing dragons, I was almost always on the dragon's side; I figured they were probably just hungry, which is why they were trying to eat everybody. I imagine dragons were partial to eating princesses because their bulky dresses and cumbersome undergarments made them slower and easier to catch. Stories where dragons are hurt or killed always made me sad; I believe in negotiation before slaying.
I still have Bernie somewhere, he lives with Mum and Dad in Maryborough. The reason I don't know exactly where he is is because as he got older he became partial to solo adventures, and thus much more difficult to keep track of. You know how teenage boys can be, and dragons even more so!
My next dragon was a pendant. His name was Dragon, because no other name seemed strong enough or brave enough. Dragon was my protector. I always felt safe with Dragon securely fastened around my neck. I met Dragon in Bundaberg when I was 17 years old, and there was no way I could leave the shop without him! Dragon even came to my school formal with me; he didn't really match my dress, so he was in my bra... then tied to my wrist... then around my neck where he belonged.
It's Dragon I named this blog for and from Dragon I found the strength to put myself out there.
Dragon was stolen from my home while he was sleeping on the table one night. He was tiny and defenceless compared to what overcame him. I miss Dragon and when I think of him I still cry.
Humans make me nervous, and so I was having trouble in the world without a dragon to keep me safe. I found Draconia on the interwebz. She's a pendant too, about the same size as Dragon. I named her Draconia from the Latin draco meaning dragon, with "ia" being feminising, as Draconia is obviously a girl, you just have to look at her to see that.