My little lizard friend

From the moment I saw this lizard, I knew he was different. Maybe it was just my overactive sense of empathy or my unhealthy tendency to personify all things non-human, but one lost soul can recognize another.

So I stomped one Doc Martin in front of the other and marched across PetSmart with my mom in tow. I was determined to get a closer look.

That spring was a pivotal point in time for me. I'd just finished my first year of university, I'd broken up with my emotionally abusive boyfriend, I’d had my first bout of anorexia, and I'd been slowly recovering from the worst depressive episode of my life.

I felt trapped, and I knew my little lizard friend did too.

As I approached the walls of his cage, the bearded dragon stared at me, eyes wide, perched upon hind legs, with both hands pressed against the glass. I think he was trying to communicate something, to evoke something, and I knew that I would listen.

He stood in stark contrast to all the other little, scaled critters, just happy to be fed, watered, and sheltered.

But not my lizard. He wanted more from this life.

"I wish I could take you home," I whispered. "The dog would eat him," said my mom.

"I wish I could set you free," I whispered. "I need to go buy dog treats," said my mom.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, knowing my bank account couldn’t match his $117 price tag.

My new friend nodded, as if in understanding. But maybe his head just felt heavy, or maybe there was a bug by his feet waiting to be snacked on.

Either way, he lifted a single palm to the pane between us, an invitation I met gratefully with my index finger.

We shared something that day, if only a moment. I find that truly special.

Normally when I tell my friends this story, they laugh at me, which, to be honest, I totally understand. I don’t need someone to explain to me that it’s weird and off-putting to randomly and dramatically befriend a lizard in a pet store; the behaviour kind of speaks for itself.

This morning, our picture popped up on my Snapchat memories, and I was reminded of him once again.

Now that I’m 21, I could tap my credit card to make all of his problems go away — or at least guarantee that I’m giving him the best life I can in captivity — but he’s no longer sitting in that glass box waiting for me.

Where ever he is, I hope he's doing good, I hope he's happy, and I want him to know that I'll never forget those 5 minutes we shared in PetSmart.

//

For all you out there with the same sentiment, here are some things you can do:

- Break for turtles (they need to cross in the direction they’re going).

- Swerve for deer and moose.

- Avoid hunting for sport, and try to eat what you kill.

- Don’t let your kids touch frogs (their skin is porous, and our touch can be toxic).

- Resist supporting unethical animal trade, and do your research before buying pets.

- Boycott brands that support deforestation.

- Take injured animals to rescue facilities.

- Try not to litter

- Eat ethically raised meat, and avoid factory farm products

- Introduce 1-2 plant based meals into your weekly diet

- Hold corporations accountable for their environmental impact (e.g., petitions, emails, open letters, raising awareness.)

- Buy a micro plastics filter for your washing machine

- Go on nature walks and learn about the wildlife in your area

Even if you’re 17 and can’t afford to save a helpless animal in the pet store, I hope you realize that you’re not alone, and your individual actions can have a lasting impact.