I used to have a bearded dragon named Tobias, but I always just called him Toby. Most people didn't know much about Toby, because he lived in the "guest room" so as to keep the cats from torturing him. Despite being handled frequently in his youth, and sheltered from as much stress as possible, he was never a friendly guy. He tolerated people because we were bigger than him, and we gave him food. He didn't want to hang out on your shoulder and be the cool dragon that some people are lucky to end up with, it just wasn't in his nature.
This past week Toby passed away. I think it happened during the night, and it didn't look like he suffered, so that's good. He was an old dragon, and towards the end we knew it was coming. He stopped being motivated to eat, and just seemed ready to go.
He's buried under the china berry tree out back, so if you're the next person to rent our duplex, don't dig him up please.