Handy's Grandpa
New Member
- Messages
- 2
- Location
- Southern California
Hi, folks. I'm new here, but not to Internet forums in general. I'm checking in to ask your opinions on how my son's Leopard Gecko "Handy" could possibly have survived getting absolutely no food or water for seven long months as it hid out in some as-yet-to-be-discovered hiding place in his room. The story:
My son has two Leos, Handy and Sergio. Handy is a male, Sergio a female. Don't ask.
He keeps them in a nice large glass enclosure with lots of things to climb around on and retreat back into, and takes very good care of them. They've always been healthy, have grown to good size, and look great. As nice as the enclosure is, though, he still feels bad about them being cooped up, so he often takes them out and lets them explore around his room and climb about on him. He never had a problem retrieving them. They've always been easy to find. His room is not cluttered at all, and he thought he had it pretty well Gecko-proofed.
Well, apparently it wasn't as Gecko-safe as we thought it was. Last November 20 the pair were getting one of their frequent outings. As bedtime approached, my son attempted to collect the animals. Sergio was in plain sight, but Handy was not. A long search produced no more reptiles, so my son went to bed, figuring Handy would turn up in the morning, as always.
He didn't. The search went on for days, and to my son's grief and consternation, we came to the conclusion that his beloved little friend had somehow gotten out of the room, which is actually a studio apartment attached to the double garage on the back of our property. We concluded that somehow the door had been left open, and Handy had slipped out and into the yard, and then the neighborhood, and was gone forever.
Well, "forever" turned out to be close to seven months, because last Wednesday, June 12, my son was getting ready for bed in his tiny bathroom, when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye, looked down, and to his utter astonishment, beheld a very slim and trim version of Handy there on the floor.
Your thoughts, kind people, as to how this remarkable little creature survived seven months of zero care, holed up in a one-room apartment. Where did he get moisture? Did he sneak out at night and into the little bathroom after my son took a shower and left a few drops on the floor? What did Handy eat? Did he live on the occasional spider he might have come upon?
Or did he somehow hibernate for that very long period? All I know about Leopard Gecko hibernation is that they sometimes do it for three or four months. Fine, but can they do it for seven?
Handy The Wonder Gecko is showing no ill effects other than a weight loss that many of us might envy. We think he weighs about two-thirds of what he used to (or maybe a little less), but otherwise is behaving like he'd never been away. He's just as active as he always was, moving around the enclosure and snapping up crickets like nothing had happened.
How did he do it?
My son has two Leos, Handy and Sergio. Handy is a male, Sergio a female. Don't ask.
He keeps them in a nice large glass enclosure with lots of things to climb around on and retreat back into, and takes very good care of them. They've always been healthy, have grown to good size, and look great. As nice as the enclosure is, though, he still feels bad about them being cooped up, so he often takes them out and lets them explore around his room and climb about on him. He never had a problem retrieving them. They've always been easy to find. His room is not cluttered at all, and he thought he had it pretty well Gecko-proofed.
Well, apparently it wasn't as Gecko-safe as we thought it was. Last November 20 the pair were getting one of their frequent outings. As bedtime approached, my son attempted to collect the animals. Sergio was in plain sight, but Handy was not. A long search produced no more reptiles, so my son went to bed, figuring Handy would turn up in the morning, as always.
He didn't. The search went on for days, and to my son's grief and consternation, we came to the conclusion that his beloved little friend had somehow gotten out of the room, which is actually a studio apartment attached to the double garage on the back of our property. We concluded that somehow the door had been left open, and Handy had slipped out and into the yard, and then the neighborhood, and was gone forever.
Well, "forever" turned out to be close to seven months, because last Wednesday, June 12, my son was getting ready for bed in his tiny bathroom, when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye, looked down, and to his utter astonishment, beheld a very slim and trim version of Handy there on the floor.
Your thoughts, kind people, as to how this remarkable little creature survived seven months of zero care, holed up in a one-room apartment. Where did he get moisture? Did he sneak out at night and into the little bathroom after my son took a shower and left a few drops on the floor? What did Handy eat? Did he live on the occasional spider he might have come upon?
Or did he somehow hibernate for that very long period? All I know about Leopard Gecko hibernation is that they sometimes do it for three or four months. Fine, but can they do it for seven?
Handy The Wonder Gecko is showing no ill effects other than a weight loss that many of us might envy. We think he weighs about two-thirds of what he used to (or maybe a little less), but otherwise is behaving like he'd never been away. He's just as active as he always was, moving around the enclosure and snapping up crickets like nothing had happened.
How did he do it?
