Remember how I said Citrus was a picky eater? Here's a new high.
Citrus hasn't had food for the past four days because the last tub of worms were getting too skinny and lifeless. I felt guilty, so I called the nearest Petco to inquire after their latest shipment. Then, I rose out of my sickbed and walked 24 New York City blocks to get him worms that were wriggly, fat, and juicy.
I put ten worms in his bowl, dusted with calcium powder. He wouldn't eat.
I turned off the lights and left the room. He wouldn't eat.
Argh!
Friday, April 19, 2013
Friday, July 27, 2012
A Clean Bill of Health!
Since moving to DC, Citrus has been battling a bacterial infection that has led to mouth rot. Poor, poor boy. He never seems to catch a break! But the good news is that the vet finally gave him a clean bill today! To celebrate, I returned some objects that were taken from his tank to make his environs less cluttered, including The Tube!
Gecko has never been this alert and energetic.
Mouth rot is the symptom of an infection. In leopard geckos, it first becomes visible to the human owner when the lips of the mouth do not align perfectly when the gecko has his mouth closed or when lesions appear. If you want to see pictures, google it, as I did. Those photographs of advanced mouth rot gave me nightmares about Citrus for a few days. And in the early stages, the gecko hasn't necessarily lost his appetite, so it really is just a visual cue.
At first, the vet prescribed gentamicin, a veterinary antibiotic that does not need to be refrigerated, but that unfortunately causes renal damage with long-term use. A drop was applied twice a day on the infected area. Though during the first two episodes the gentamicin seemed to help, subsequent episodes lasted longer and longer.
By the late winter, the vet suggested a three-step treatment: first, swabbing the lips with diluted iodine antiseptic (this couldn't have tasted good); second, applying the gentamicin; and third, sealing the gecko's lips with some vaseline. The infection would also return every couple of months, making it frustrating not only for Citrus, but us humans, too. Citrus would struggle as soon as he was lifted out of the cage -- he probably thought we were torturing him for sport -- so we swaddled him in a small facial towel. Sometimes, he would be so angry and scared that he would make clicking noises, wiggle free, or pee into the towel. It was truly miserable, but we persisted with this on and off until June, when it finally became clear that the treatment wasn't working.
At this point, the vet collected a sample from the roof of Citrus' mouth and sent a culture to the labs. The results indicated that two types of bacteria were causing this problem. Thankfully, they both responded to Enrofloxacin, an antibiotic that can cause loss of vision (you can't win with these things). We administered it with a tiny syringe and had to keep it refrigerated, but giving it to the gecko proved to be very easy. One of us swaddled him in the cloth, and the other gave him 0.03ml, which amounts to two drops of antibiotic. Since it was apple-flavored, Citrus was perplexed enough by the taste to lick at it multiple times. Et voilà !
After two weeks of treatment and about $800 in vet bills, my scaled baby is germ-free.
(lolcat-style)
Gecko has never been this alert and energetic.
Mouth rot is the symptom of an infection. In leopard geckos, it first becomes visible to the human owner when the lips of the mouth do not align perfectly when the gecko has his mouth closed or when lesions appear. If you want to see pictures, google it, as I did. Those photographs of advanced mouth rot gave me nightmares about Citrus for a few days. And in the early stages, the gecko hasn't necessarily lost his appetite, so it really is just a visual cue.
At first, the vet prescribed gentamicin, a veterinary antibiotic that does not need to be refrigerated, but that unfortunately causes renal damage with long-term use. A drop was applied twice a day on the infected area. Though during the first two episodes the gentamicin seemed to help, subsequent episodes lasted longer and longer.
By the late winter, the vet suggested a three-step treatment: first, swabbing the lips with diluted iodine antiseptic (this couldn't have tasted good); second, applying the gentamicin; and third, sealing the gecko's lips with some vaseline. The infection would also return every couple of months, making it frustrating not only for Citrus, but us humans, too. Citrus would struggle as soon as he was lifted out of the cage -- he probably thought we were torturing him for sport -- so we swaddled him in a small facial towel. Sometimes, he would be so angry and scared that he would make clicking noises, wiggle free, or pee into the towel. It was truly miserable, but we persisted with this on and off until June, when it finally became clear that the treatment wasn't working.
At this point, the vet collected a sample from the roof of Citrus' mouth and sent a culture to the labs. The results indicated that two types of bacteria were causing this problem. Thankfully, they both responded to Enrofloxacin, an antibiotic that can cause loss of vision (you can't win with these things). We administered it with a tiny syringe and had to keep it refrigerated, but giving it to the gecko proved to be very easy. One of us swaddled him in the cloth, and the other gave him 0.03ml, which amounts to two drops of antibiotic. Since it was apple-flavored, Citrus was perplexed enough by the taste to lick at it multiple times. Et voilà !
After two weeks of treatment and about $800 in vet bills, my scaled baby is germ-free.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Geckos on Exhibit
Boston is clearly the best city in these United States of America. I'm driving down the Turnpike on my way to the airport, and a giant sign catches my eyes: GECKOS. With a yellow guy!
The Museum of Science in Boston currently has an exhibit on geckos -- all shapes, sizes, and species -- until May 6, 2012. Catch it if you can, for my sake! Here is the link.
The Museum of Science in Boston currently has an exhibit on geckos -- all shapes, sizes, and species -- until May 6, 2012. Catch it if you can, for my sake! Here is the link.
Monday, February 20, 2012
The Amazing Power of Gecko Feet
I know that leopard geckos have small claws, unlike their cousins who are featured in this article. However, it's still cool that geckos have inspired a new adhesive.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
An Exciting Project
As ever obsessed with my yellow friend (sorry, can't help but think Yellow Mamba as I type this), I have a new writing projects in the works that is borne out of Citrus' summer adventure in the moving truck.
Though I'm a little cryptic about what this project is, I can share something else that's been on the back of my mind. Have you ever noticed the paucity of gecko-centric objects? I mean, take greeting cards as an example. Cards have pictures of the usual -- dogs, cats, birds -- but also critters -- dragonflies, frogs, butterflies. But NO GECKOS.
Now when I step into a store, I can't help but look for gecko-related objects. So far, Paper Source and Papyrus have been disappointing. I've only found one store that carries gecko cards, and it's an independent store called Morning Silver in West Newton Center, in Massachusetts, that sells a lot of kitsch. The first time I went there, they had these gorgeous cards.
So pretty! Like mosaics. Definitely inspired by Middle East Art, though the company that produced them, Bug Art, is British. Of course, I praised the store management effusively for carrying these and bought out their entire supply. It set me back nearly $100.
Of course, big surprise that the second time I visited the store, almost a year later, they had more gecko things! I found this very abstract rendition of geckos, along with a miniature glass figurine.
Another $50 given to the store, as I buy them out of these. The supply is limited, and only special people get a Gecko Card.
Keep your eyes peeled for geckos and let me know if you find anything. I'm like the crazy cat person who collects cat things. Except I'm a gecko lady. Maybe the only one?
Though I'm a little cryptic about what this project is, I can share something else that's been on the back of my mind. Have you ever noticed the paucity of gecko-centric objects? I mean, take greeting cards as an example. Cards have pictures of the usual -- dogs, cats, birds -- but also critters -- dragonflies, frogs, butterflies. But NO GECKOS.
Now when I step into a store, I can't help but look for gecko-related objects. So far, Paper Source and Papyrus have been disappointing. I've only found one store that carries gecko cards, and it's an independent store called Morning Silver in West Newton Center, in Massachusetts, that sells a lot of kitsch. The first time I went there, they had these gorgeous cards.
So pretty! Like mosaics. Definitely inspired by Middle East Art, though the company that produced them, Bug Art, is British. Of course, I praised the store management effusively for carrying these and bought out their entire supply. It set me back nearly $100.
Of course, big surprise that the second time I visited the store, almost a year later, they had more gecko things! I found this very abstract rendition of geckos, along with a miniature glass figurine.
Another $50 given to the store, as I buy them out of these. The supply is limited, and only special people get a Gecko Card.
Keep your eyes peeled for geckos and let me know if you find anything. I'm like the crazy cat person who collects cat things. Except I'm a gecko lady. Maybe the only one?
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Eating Mealworms...
... is for humans just as much as leopard geckos. Maybe someday Citrus and I can share dinner.
www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2011/09/bug-nuggets/8599/
www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2011/09/bug-nuggets/8599/
Monday, June 27, 2011
A close call
Two weeks ago, I moved from New Jersey to Massachusetts and nearly lost Citrus in the process. This post would have been a tearful post explaining and decrying the brevity of this blog, seeing as I would have been gecko-less.
I rented a 12-ft Penske truck (which, by the way, is so wonderful a
company that I'm renting from them again this week as I move from Massachusetts to DC). Once all of my belongings were loaded into it, I moved Citrus from his tank to his travel box, and placed him securely in the cabin on top of his tank. Car rides are traumatic events for the reptile, and I wanted to make sure he was moved into the truck as late as possible.
As I was getting ready to drive off, I received a call from my brother, who was helping his girlfriend move concurrently. Their old U-Haul trailer had broken down before getting out of the driveway, and they needed help getting a truck. I ran off and accompanied my brother to the Penske rental office. By the time I returned to my own truck, I had been gone for nearly 45 minutes, during which time, my boyfriend soon discovered, Citrus had escaped from his travel case. The lid hadn't been closed tightly because I had placed an excessive number of towels to provide him with more cushioning.
I looked all over the cabin, crawled into nooks and crannies and searched under the seats, but the gecko was nowhere to be found (it was also unfortunate that Citrus is a similar shade of yellow as the Penske paint). Recalling stories from NPR's Car Talk about leopard geckos that make their way from the pedals to the dashboard, never to be heard from again, I checked the spaces underneath the truck's pedals and, to my surprise, found them to be too narrow for Citrus. Finally, I noticed that the floor to the cabin -- a large gray sheet of plastic -- was not nailed securely at the edges. Upon lifting the edges of the plastic and discovering carpeting, I concluded that the lizard had crawled underneath, deeper than I could reach. Heartbroken and horrified, and with visions of Citrus stuck underneath my feet, I had no choice but to proceed as planned. I drove off.
A couple of hours onto the highway, my boyfriend exclaimed, "There he is!" Lo and behold, Citrus had emerged from his hiding place and was crawling behind the passenger seat. But he wiggled out of our grasp and hid underneath the plastic flooring once more. With a renewed sense of hope, we drove on and within the hour, Citrus appeared again. We pulled up by the side of CT-15 and scooped up the lizard, which had been calmly wandering behind us. After a stern talking-to and many tears of relief, Citrus was returned to his travel case and he completed the ride in our lap.
Bad gecko...!
I rented a 12-ft Penske truck (which, by the way, is so wonderful a
company that I'm renting from them again this week as I move from Massachusetts to DC). Once all of my belongings were loaded into it, I moved Citrus from his tank to his travel box, and placed him securely in the cabin on top of his tank. Car rides are traumatic events for the reptile, and I wanted to make sure he was moved into the truck as late as possible.As I was getting ready to drive off, I received a call from my brother, who was helping his girlfriend move concurrently. Their old U-Haul trailer had broken down before getting out of the driveway, and they needed help getting a truck. I ran off and accompanied my brother to the Penske rental office. By the time I returned to my own truck, I had been gone for nearly 45 minutes, during which time, my boyfriend soon discovered, Citrus had escaped from his travel case. The lid hadn't been closed tightly because I had placed an excessive number of towels to provide him with more cushioning.
I looked all over the cabin, crawled into nooks and crannies and searched under the seats, but the gecko was nowhere to be found (it was also unfortunate that Citrus is a similar shade of yellow as the Penske paint). Recalling stories from NPR's Car Talk about leopard geckos that make their way from the pedals to the dashboard, never to be heard from again, I checked the spaces underneath the truck's pedals and, to my surprise, found them to be too narrow for Citrus. Finally, I noticed that the floor to the cabin -- a large gray sheet of plastic -- was not nailed securely at the edges. Upon lifting the edges of the plastic and discovering carpeting, I concluded that the lizard had crawled underneath, deeper than I could reach. Heartbroken and horrified, and with visions of Citrus stuck underneath my feet, I had no choice but to proceed as planned. I drove off.
A couple of hours onto the highway, my boyfriend exclaimed, "There he is!" Lo and behold, Citrus had emerged from his hiding place and was crawling behind the passenger seat. But he wiggled out of our grasp and hid underneath the plastic flooring once more. With a renewed sense of hope, we drove on and within the hour, Citrus appeared again. We pulled up by the side of CT-15 and scooped up the lizard, which had been calmly wandering behind us. After a stern talking-to and many tears of relief, Citrus was returned to his travel case and he completed the ride in our lap.
Bad gecko...!
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