A simple question. Do you have a pet? No? Okay. Yes? Do you have a dog or a cat? That is how it usually goes, at least from my previous humble experience. But what happens when you reply that you do not have a dog or a cat, but something more exotic, something a bit extraordinary? Then people start to exclaim – what? really? Do you have that? How much did it cost? Does it stink or/and/or bite? Why didn’t you buy a cat instead? – and provide their unwanted opinions.
So the story goes as follows.
Okay, it was not exactly my pet. It was my amazing girlfriend’s. She wanted it. She did all the research and more. The only thing I did was to drive her to the pet shop and then back to our flat. And of course, all the little things afterward, like buying worms and crickets, and providing emotional support when something happened to our little Fiona. Yes, our chameleon was called Fiona. Yes, like from the movie Shrek. Yes, because she was green.
So, how was life with a chameleon as a pet? It was great. Really. At first, I was hesitant about getting this creature. Since our flat had only one room, it meant we would be sleeping almost next to it. And when you only have one room, then you have to be wise with the real estate at your disposal. I knew that chameleons live in closed environments and that it needs space. So I was reluctant to have Fiona at our place.
But then one day in January, my loved one said point blank – we will have a chameleon, and you must accept it (as I accept your watch books). Enough said. We looked at places where one can buy reptiles, we drove our small car to the shop, and bought this fascinating green creature.
Chameleons are amazing. Really. Their ability to change their skin color, the way they catch live food, their movement, their eyes, and even their feces are extraordinary. I would argue that if I’d had one when I grew up, then most probably I would have studied biology or zoology or something related (maybe I would even have a pocket watch by now).
Chameleons don’t smell, they don’t make noises unless you let a cricket slip by its tongue, then the cricket won’t let you sleep at night, and they are not financially demanding. Our Fiona had an eye problem every spring, so we drove her to the vet to get a vitamin injection. How much did it cost? Your latte or cappuccino costs more, I can tell you that.
Why do I speak in the past tense about Fiona? Did she die? No. She is alive and well. She currently lives at a small zoo called “Silavas”. We, unfortunately, had to leave her in Latvia when we came to Brussels. Even though we bought her legally with all the papers, getting her to Brussels would be a nightmare. And finding a landlord willing to accept a chameleon in their flat would be next to impossible. Remember the question at the beginning of this article? I had one such conversation. It was not pleasant.
I often think about her. Even though chameleons live roughly five years, even though she bit me a couple of times, even though she rarely came on our hands when we tried to get her out of her home, even though there were a couple of other things, she was ours. She was proof that being interesting and not ordinary is the way to be.
I hope you are doing great, Fiona.
Kind regards,
Olaaf
