My Harriet

Harriet. A frilled dragon stands alert, showcasing its distinctive frill among leafy surroundings.

I'm a 90's kid; I'm a 90's kid who grew up loving dinosaurs. In 1993 the movie Jurassic Park hit the movie theaters. Like millions of others, I watched with a marvelous, open-mouthed smile, as lifelike dinosaurs graced the big screen.

One dinosaur in particular stood out: the Dilophosaurus.

Bird-like mannerisms, a gigantic colorful frill, and some awesome venomous spit, the Dilophosaurus was a spectacular and frightening antagonist. Mouth agape, frill extended, and a hiss-like growl - not the the biggest dinosaur, but never-the-less a nightmarish monster for many.

I want one!

But I can't have a dinosaur - they're extinct. And even if they weren't extinct, well, lets not get into the now-known biological inaccuracies associated with the dinosaurs of Jurassic Park.

Regardless however, Australian reptiles were becoming mainstream on TV - thanks to Steve Irwin - and of course Chlamydosaurus kingii was getting some screen time.

Dilophosaurus was a meat-eating, bi-pedal, bird-like dinosaur. And while science has said that there is no evidence that the creature could spit venom, its frill was a very real thing.

And the frill of Chlamydosaurus kingii - the Frilled Dragon - is a very real thing too. And when spooked, the frilled dragon becomes bi-pedal much like the Dilophosaurus (But I'll admit that a spooked frilled dragon is far more comical than an angry Dilophsaurus).

And with all that said, my childhood obsession with owning a frilled dragon began - my own little dinosaur. And while today I'm well aware that the frilled dragon is no Dilophosaurus, these lizards are still so very special.

I had a lot of reptiles when I was a kid. But, one reptile that aways escaped me was the frilled dragon. Fast forward about twenty years and there I was; on a trip to a reptile expo in White Plains, New York.

I was still in the infancy of reestablishing the love for reptiles that I had when I was a kid; I had no real intention of coming home from the expo with anything, much less the reptile of my childhood dreams.

My family and I walked the expo and we were ready to leave, when we came across a table with a whole bunch of stuff. Now, I don't want to get to into the ethics around these reptile expos. But I will say, there tends to be more than a few vendors that are just there to sell whatever they can; while there are those vendors that are passionately invested in a particular species of reptile or reptiles, there are others that are simply clearing houses. These clearing houses buy whatever is available from wildlife importers at a wholesale price, and try to flip animals for a measly little profit at the expo. Often times, these vendors don't have a clue about the proper care for the animals that they're selling, much less give a shit about the condition of the animal on the table.

Now, much like the position that some people have - don't buy reptiles from the big-box pet stores because they come from the horrible conditions of reptile mills - these vendors at reptile expos are generally avoided as well by the well-informed.

I've never gotten behind these arguments. For a boycott to be successful, it needs a massive backing by a willing public, often with the backing of some political establishment. The time and effort that a boycott takes is simply too much to realistically entertain. And this is especially important when one considers all of the animals that may have found good homes had the boycotter considered the individual creature ahead of their ethical disagreement with the seller.

Back to the expo.

I casually looked at what this vendor had on the table; stacks of deli cups with countless different species of snakes, lizards, etc.

One deli cup was tucked away in a corner on the table. In the deli cup was a tiny little lizard - smaller than a house mouse.

The lizard was a baby frilled dragon. And frankly it didn't look all too great.

$125 was written on the lid.

Clearly it was a New Guinea Frilled Dragon and not an Australian Frilled Dragon. Taxonomy-speaking, the same species, but in reality, New Guineas are more common - mostly due to Australia's animal export laws - and they're generally smaller than their Australian counterparts. And this all also means that New Guinea Frilled Dragons are vastly cheaper than Australians.

But, It didn't matter to me - it was a frilled dragon.

I picked the deli cup up and looked a bit closer at the animal. It wasn't moving much, and its eyes were only half opened. I asked the young man manning the table if I could pop the lid off and check out the animal.

He replied with the tell-tale sign of a vendor that doesn't give a f**k about the animals: "if it gets out, you bought it."

There was no attempt to discuss what species it was, its care requirements, or how the animal came into his possession. It was a cold response that clearly placed dollars ahead of the well-being of the animal.

I shrugged it off and popped the lid of the deli cup. I gently poked the little lizard. It moved. A little bit.

I took it all in. I thought about how much I wanted a frilled dragon when I was a kid, I thought about how I had $200 in cash in my pocket, and I thought about the tiny, individual little lizard in a deli cup, in my hands.

I didn't care how much the lizard was, where it was from, and I ignored the fact that I was going to give this vendor my hard earned cash.

It was all about the little lizard at this moment.

I put the lid back on the deli cup, got the vendor's attention, handed him $125 in cash and walked away. When I got far enough away from the table, I looked at my sister - who accompanied me to the expo - and did a stupid little dance, a childish giggle, and exclaimed, "I got a frilled dragon!"

Truth be told, on the inside I was quite scared. The little lizard was so tiny and frail-looking that I wondered if I could keep it alive.

I got Harriet home and settled into an enclosure. After about a day or two, I gave her a misting. I could see her take a sip. I offered her some tiny crickets and she joyfully "came alive" as she chased them around the enclosure. And she'd give me a tiny little "frill-up" if I got too close.

Baby Harriet; A baby frilled dragon displays its impressive frill as it perches on a branch, ready to charm with its dramatic pose.

Harriet grew fast. Today she's "my girl." She's very special to me. When I take her out and engage with her, she'll inevitably stick to my chest, then slowly crawl up until she's nuzzled up under my chin. And then she'll sit there completely still until I put her back in her enclosure.

I like to think she's cuddling with me. She doesn't "frill-up" at me anymore. But if there's a stranger around, that frill comes right out. People think reptiles cannot bond with people. They can, and Harriet proves it.