BOSTON GLOBE (Massachusetts) 13 July 08 Leaping Lizards! They don't require litter boxes or long walks, don't trigger pet allergies, and don't yelp long into the night. No wonder reptiles are gaining popularity. (Madeline Bodin)
Kati Wrubel does not have time to sit down. There is a crowd of people three-deep around her Kati's Cresteds table at the New England Reptile Expo. Those in the back crane their necks for a look at the geckos in tall plastic containers arrayed on the table in front of Wrubel.
A tawny-colored crested gecko named Sammi crouches her 4-inch-long body and equally long tail atop the container in the center. Geckos, a type of lizard, always look as though they are crouching. A tiny fringe around the edge of this gecko's flat head is her "crest." Every once in a while Sammi reaches out with her long tongue and licks her own eyeball. She cannot blink, so this is how she keeps her eyes clean.
A boy in a yellow polo shirt wriggles his way to the front. He wants Wrubel to know that he has a ball python at home. With a smile, she offers him Sammi to hold. "They are so soft," he coos. "The feet kind of stick to you." He sighs. "I love reptiles."
The New England Reptile Expo is the region's largest. It takes place each April and October in a brick-walled former armory in Manchester, New Hampshire, now part of the Radisson Hotel. On this day in April, it has drawn about 40 vendors and 2,300 attendees. When the show officially opens at 10 a.m., nearly every exhibit is as crowded as Wrubel's. Walking the aisles requires the same skills as navigating a T station at rush hour. The reptiles for sale include lizards, snakes, and turtles. Several vendors sell the most popular reptile pets, particularly ball pythons, corn snakes, and bearded dragons. (There is also a large selection of frogs, which are amphibians.) There are fruit eaters, leaf eaters, and carnivores. There are desert natives that need dry conditions and rain-forest dwellers that need humidity. Many are happy in a glass tank, but some, such as chameleons, do better in a screen cage. Many reptile species don't need to be fed daily, and a few go weeks without eating. Reptiles live as long as dogs or cats, and some live much longer. A bearded dragon lives about 10 years; a corn snake, 15. Tortoises can live a hundred years.
The popularity of reptiles as pets is exploding. In 2006, 4.8 million households in the United States owned 13 million reptiles, according to the American Pet Products Manufacturers Association. That's double the 2.4 million households that owned reptiles in 1996. That growing popularity is reflected in the reptile show. Former vendor Jerry Toohil of Worcester has not been at a show for five years. He's back today as an attendee and can't get over the crowds, and how the crowds have changed. "It used to be all tattooed biker people dressed in black," he says. "Now it's normal people, too."
Reptile experts say the growing popularity of these coldblooded pets may be due to the fact that some species are low-maintenance, that they are ideal apartment pets (Wrubel sells many geckos to Boston's apartment-dwelling college students), and that they are good for people with allergies (Wrubel herself is allergic to cats). The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention warns that children younger than 5 and people with weakened immune systems should avoid reptiles because of the threat of salmonella infection (a version of this warning is posted at the reptile expo entrance), but showgoers don't seem scared off by this. There are bottles of hand sanitizer at many displays, and Wrubel, for one, uses hers periodically.
The aisles of the reptile show are filled with people who own dozens of reptiles. And they have dogs and cats and tanks of fish. They will tell you that they love all animals. Perhaps a generation of environmental consciousness-raising has trained our pet-mad culture to embrace a wider range of creatures as cute and lovable. It is also possible that moms are getting cooler, or at least more indulgent. It may be no surprise that the minivan generation is not only saying yes to a reptile as a pet, but will also do what it takes to make reptile ownership work for the kids.
A blond woman in a black track suit appears at the edge of the crowd at Wrubel's table, herding her two sons in front of her. "These are crested geckos," she says. "That's just what you are looking for."
Wrubel, 31, who lives in Worcester and is a postdoctoral fellow at the Tufts University Cummings School of Veterinary Medicine in Grafton, has just 14 geckos for sale at her table. Her manicured fingertips dance over the biggest geckos in the tallest containers in the table's center. "These are my breeders," she says. "It's a slow time of year. I'm just getting eggs, so I want to show people what I'm working with."
The geckos that hatch from those eggs will be available in three to six months. Many of Wrubel's customers wait that long, but Stephany Kalil of Bedford, New Hampshire, and her family, sons Xander, then age 12, and Adam, age 9, and husband, Steve, intend to go home with a crested gecko for each boy today. Kalil has been doing research on reptiles as pets and knows that crested geckos are both relatively cuddly and easy to care for and that reptile shows like this one are a great place to buy them.
The Kalil family heads over to a vendor with a large selection of crested geckos. There, the geckos are displayed in clear, round deli takeout containers. There are air holes punched in the sides. Adam picks out a thumb-sized brown-and-tan striped crested gecko that costs $75. Xander picks out an orange-tinged gecko that, he is told, will develop black spots as it matures. The spots cost extra. This gecko is $95. Steve Kalil feathers bills out of his wallet. The boys hold their takeout containers reverently as they turn from the table.
The Kalils are then on to a vendor specializing in tanks and accessories. They settle on a 45-gallon tank, then gather up an armful of plastic plants. "I'm getting fake so I can clean it in the sink," confesses Stephany. "We can build an ecosystem later." They also buy a little log, which the tree-dwelling geckos need to feel at home.
As Steve, laden with the tank in a box, and the boys with their geckos head for the car, Stephany searches for a vendor willing to sell her a small quantity of live crickets. She finds one on her third try. On her way out, Stephany skirts the crowd still gathered around Kati Wrubel's table.
The crowd thins out at about 3 p.m., and Wrubel takes stock of her day. She has sold nine geckos and talked to two pet-shop owners who are interested in buying geckos from her. She also has probably sold the idea of having a crested gecko as a pet to dozens of people who will buy later through her website or other reptile shows. To celebrate, she and her 13-year-old daughter, Eve, will stop for a nice dinner on their way home.
One of the last families to visit Wrubel's table is a mom in a brick-red cardigan, a buzz-cut dad, and their two wide-eyed, preschool-aged daughters. The girls are eager to hold Sammi, but it's the mom who returns the gecko to her perch atop the containers - with a tiny kiss.
No wonder reptiles are gaining popularity.