The Little Gaffer

Two days ago I brought home the Little Gaffer, a seven week old Veiled Chameleon, a baby boy.

We have no idea what to do with a baby chameleon. No Idea. Taking care of one of these things isn't easy, apparently, but we're already hopelessly infatuated and so we're determined to get it right, and raise a happy, well-adjusted and self-actualized chameleon citizen.

My wife and I just moved in to a sweet little house on a quiet street in the downtown core of a big city- steps away from the subway, the fruit stands, the bakeries, and, as I marvelled to discover one day, a breeder of lizards tucked away on a side street behind a foggy shop window.

And now, suddenly there's a baby chameleon living in our front room. My wife just turned off the little gaffer's lamps for the night a while ago. The effect of the sudden darkness is instantaneous, and very charming. He settles down on his branch in seconds, curls his little tail into a perfect spiral, and falls asleep. I'm about to do the same. I'll introduce you and tell you how he ended up here tomorrow.

Maybe by then we'll have stopped arguing about The Name. He doesn't have a name yet. We're still arguing about The Name. The problem is simple: she doesn't like Banjo, and I don't like Ken.

Our Mission- to keep the little bugger alive. You can read all about it and root for us here.