It used to be that reptiles took no guff from anybody. Millions of years ago they lorded over the earth. There was no room for pushy birds or upstart mammals. Everywhere you looked there were reptiles. You could find them in the ocean, in the mud underfoot, in the branches of trees and in the craters of moribund volcanoes.
Then something happened and the ruling dynasty fell. Nobody knows if it was a deadly reptile plague, a comet that poisoned the atmosphere, drastic changes in climate or simply the survival of “fitter” mammals. Whatever the cause, it left us considerably bereft of the “cold-blooded” elite. Modern reptiles are burrelics of past glory, artifacts of a kingdom past. Now there are only four major groups of reptiles: the turtles, snakes, crocodilians and lizards. Lizards are in most ways the closest to the roaring roamers we see in the movies, comic books and museums.
Roaring roamers, however, don’t generally make good pets. Nearly every animal group contains potential pets and potential problems, and the lizard group has its share of both. In fact, if the lizards as a group have a theme, it is diversity. There are three-foot-long black lizards that dive in the crashing surf and eat algae that they scrape from underwater rocks while holding their breath. There are others that look like walking thorn bushes and strut through the outback utterly immune to approach. There are tiny ones with warty skin that can run up and down a pane of glass or leap from treetops only to glide to safety hundreds of feet below. There are twelve-foot giants that feast upon buffalo and deer, bringing down their ill-fated prey with a savage ripping open of guts, and there are tough-skinned and sluggish flower eaters that gourmandize the day away amid pastures of cactus.
The tiniest of the lizards are the tree geckos of the West Indies. If you have been to the tropics you may have seen one hanging upside down from the ceiling, watching a tiny insect run by a lamp in the corner. Suddenly he takes a step forward and thousands of tiny hooks on his feet grab the rough surface of the plaster, giving him a grip like superglue. I le wipes the clear covering over his eyes with his long, agile tongue, just to make sure that what he sees is what he gets, then with a great silent rush forward is upon his prey, seizing it, all waving and crunchy, in his powerful little jaws.
Geckos of different sorts make great pets, with one notable exception: the dreaded Tokay. Some years ago I was trying to share a bit of lizard biology with some high school students. By way of illustration I was holding in my hand a foot-long tokay gecko. The tokay is the largest of the gecko family, a lizard group noted for its agility and coloring, with external ear openings that are quite obvious and an eardrum that is transparent and easy to see. I was eager to prove this to my students and went to great lengths to hold the lizard up to the light so that all could view the inner ear and daylight on the other side. One student asked me to point out the area in question. It never occurred to me that he was anything but sincere. Gingerly I raised my finger to the side of the lizard’s head and indicated the orifice. This bit of manipulating caused me to lose control of the animal entirely, whereupon the aggressive little monster squirmed, turned around and sank his multitudes of tiny, needle-sharp teeth into the soft fleshy area between my thumb and forefinger. Shivers of pain coursing through my arm, I determinedly carried on as if nothing had happened, successfully squelching the attack cry forming at the base of my throat, as my students snickered and smirked. Redder of face and far redder of finger, I tried to instill some sense of propriety into the beast. Finally, all stoicism being for naught, I interrupted the lecture, strode casually to the sink (trying not to wince and gasp) and dunked my hand into some ice-cold water. The lizard let go-and I had learned a lesson in gecko grasping and student trusting. The general consensus on these lizards is best stated by a sign I saw recently on an aquarium full of tokays in a local pet shop. The sign read: TOKAY OHCKOS YOU CATCH ‘HM–10. Will CATCH ‘EM–20 That tell you something?
You will not find the tokay gecko in the “recommended” section!
The twelve-foot giant I mentioned above is named the Komodo dragon for the islands from which it hails. Some researchers think this gargantuan reptile is the source of the dragon legends that pervade the Orient. This animal, of course, makes a better reptilian assassin than pet, but other members of the “monitor” group make perhaps the most highly prized lizard pets of all. Monitors are large, carnivorous, predatory loners, so nicknamed for their wary habits. For years I had a small monitor living in my closet. He was one of my all-time favorite pets, and you will read about him below.
The vast majority of lizards are harmless. The only ones in all the world with venom are the bright orange-and-black Gila monster of our own Southwest and its relative the Mexican beaded lizard from south of the border. Lacking venom, lizards also require no special handling skills, apart from caution with a large, unfamiliar animal and keeping your large lizard’s nails trim (best done by a veterinarian). In fact, life with a friendly lizard does not take much adjustment, as lizards are undemanding. Feeding and watering are accomplished with a minimum of fuss. A large lizard such as an iguana will live in a bare cage much like a snake house and require similar care to that given his legless cousin. Smaller lizards may need a more elaborate duplication of nature in the form of a vivarium. If you elect to set up the latter and populate it with more than one of these colorful specimens, you will be rewarded with a living showcase. Properly executed, this arrangement will all but run itself, just like a miniature forest or desert. Many lizards are quite long-lived (up to twenty years in captivity) and will provide you with years of pleasure.
If you are bedridden, elderly or confined for any other reason, a vivarium full of lizards makes a terrific choice. If you have an acute eye and a dose of curiosity about the natural world, you will soon be forsaking your television set in favor of your vivarium. If you are a budding student of animal behavior you will learn invaluable lessons from the little world in your sitting room. In the microcosm of the vivarium all the nasty rules of staying alive in the big bad world apply.
In sum, your lizard pet can be either a large, responsive creature with whom you may have a genuine one-to-one relationship.
Popularity: 92%
