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Posted by Desiree on March 27, 2002 at 22:53:27:
Reptiles find sanctuary
with Manchester couple
By CAROL ROBIDOUX
Union Leader Staff
Mike and Jenna Dillon demonstrate the secret handshake of reptile enthusiasts by simply rolling up their sleeves.
Their outstretched forearms bear a collection of crimson stripes, the familiar markings of those whose daily routine includes the hapless swipes of ascending iguana claws in search of a higher human perch.
Like Jimmie, the one-eyed iguana.
She has her good eye on the stranger taking notes in the kitchen while she scrambles up Mike Dillon’s arm and around his head, settling on a tasty strand of his ponytailed hair, her crooked jaw zagging like a cow intent on cud.
She’s skittish around strangers, warns Jenna.
Jimmie’s zig-zag mouth and missing right eye are battle scars suffered during a surprise attack by a house cat four years ago when she was just a hatchling.
She’s since been “rescued” by the Dillons, who share their century-old fixer upper in Manchester with reptiles in recovery. It’s a deliberate sanctuary for cold-blooded creatures that, like Jimmie, have been broken and abused by others.
Their ultimate goal is building the country’s first full-service reptile rescue and education center here in Manchester.
Long-time iguana lovers, the couple starting acquiring needy animals about a year ago. Besides iguanas, there have been scorpions, alligators — one so malnourished it had no teeth of its own and needed to be fitted with braces — and caiman, an alligator-like creature.
The couple expected to share their two-family home with some fellow humans once it was fixed up — not a menagerie of slithering lizards.
But on Feb. 7 duty called, by way of Elizabeth Fourar-Laidi, executive director of the Cocheco Valley Humane Society, when Dover police found 105 sick and fading animals at an abandoned exotic pet shop.
Store owner William A. Gammon goes to court June 3. He was charged with seven counts of animal cruelty, one for each category of critter removed from the business.
The animals were handed over to CVHS for care, who handed them over to the Dillons. Since then, they’ve been sharing space with some 60 reptiles (plus family pets Kai the macaw and Jack the family dog and four free-roaming iguanas) in their first large-scale stint as rescuers.
“If they hadn’t taken on this tremendous expense, I don’t know what we would’ve done,” says Fourar-Laidi, who estimates care costs at $30,000 so far.
“We’re doing what we can to help support their effort, but like most humane societies, we rely on donations for the bulk of our work,” says Fourar-Laidi, adding that donations to help the reptiles are being accepted through CVHS.
CVHS is under contract with Dover to handle complaints of animal abuse — normally dogs and cats in distress. But they just aren’t equipped for reptile rescue, a growing area of need here in New Hampshire and across the country, says Fourar-Laidi.
“More and more people are getting exotic pets — people who don’t really understand what happens when a cute little hatchling grows to three feet,” says Fourar-Laidi.
The Dillons’ upstairs “infirmary” feels like the tropics, gas stove churning at full tilt and humidifier humming moisture throughout, a must for the smooth-skinned house guests — like Crunch the bearded dragon, Mortimer the Russian tortoise, Enzo the jungle carpet python and the blob of an African pixie frog named, well, Frog.
There’s also Damien, a 5-foot Nile monitor, who was infested with parasitic amoebae. And Elwood, an iguana with issues.
“You’d be a little out of whack if three-quarters of your tail that you use for balance was broken off,” says Mike.
“Com’ere, Elwood. Easy, boy. Easy, easy, eeeee —,” says Mike, his ear-to-ear grimace reflecting the fresh forearm stripes, a la Elwood.
Mike built several reptile condos, including one in his office, where iguanas Doc and Geo watch TV. They prefer Cartoon Network to Animal Planet, Mike notes.
Besides footing veterinary bills for each and every reptile, they’ve also invested in mercury vapor lights (at $50 a pop), frozen rodents and fresh greens, feeder bugs — and their electric meter spins faster than a Tasmanian devil.
Between reptile shifts, Mike works as a freelance stage hand and Jenna builds Web sites and does some minor consulting. She also says she’s a poor excuse for a Mary Kay representative. They depend on a small handful of volunteers to help with animal care, and donations that trickle in to keep the lizards fed and warm.
“The reptile industry has as many throwaways, if more, than the rest of the animal population,” Jenna says. “Just because it doesn’t bark, meow or curl up at your feet doesn’t mean it’s not worthy of good care.”
Adds Mike, “They’re the reason we’re here. If this weren’t something that had to be done, we probably wouldn’t be doing it — at least, not yet.”
On the Web: www.theiguanaspot.com and www.brokenreptile.com
