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Today's the day to shower all those pets with tons of love

February 20, 2005 1:09 am

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Mark Smith with his 14-year-old Eclectus parrot, Barney. lfpets1.jpg

Renee Embrey with two of her ferrets, Shinoda (left) and Anubus. lfpets4.jpg

Ben Camber with his fat-tailed gecko, Izzy. lfpets3.jpg

Brandon Schrader with one of his frogs, Mister Sticky.

By KRISTIN DAVIS

EVEN-YEAR-OLD Brandon Schrader told Santa his heart's desire: a sticky-footed White's tree frog.

Santa wasn't sure. It's awfully cold in the North Pole for an exotic reptile, he said. But Brandon was adamant. He knew exactly where Santa could find the frog.

His big sister works at a pet store that sells them.

Santa did not disappoint. Mr. Sticky, a palm-sized, blue-green White's tree frog, was delivered in time for Christmas. Sister Diana provided the setup--the aquarium and the greenery and the live crickets for mealtime.

Brandon, a second-grader at Spotsylvania County's Harrison Road Elementary, has always loved frogs. He caught them from nature, mother Judy said.

"We told him, 'frogs from nature have to stay in nature.'"

But White's tree frogs, native to Indonesia and Australia, are OK to keep in captivity. And Mr. Sticky quickly proved one of the easiest pets ever in the Schraders' zoolike household.

The cage must stay at 70 degrees. The frogs need daily feedings and a spritz of water to keep their slick bodies moist. That's it.

But soon after the frog's arrival, there was a little problem. Brandon thought Mr. Sticky was sad and lonely.

Enter Mrs. Sticky. She's a bluer shade than the mister.

"They stay side by side in their cave," Judy said.

Brandon has happily taken on responsibility for both. He makes sure hands are washed before handling. No one can tap on the glass.

"I play with them, pet them, talk to them," Brandon said. "They're really gentle. They're really good friends. But they're not very good at cooperating."

Celebrate your pet love

Today is the day pet owners across America should bask in the love they feel for their finned or furry or scaly or feathery friends.

Take an extra moment to nuzzle your pot-bellied pig, to wrap that 12-foot Burmese python in your arms. Treasure the joy only these creatures can bring.

It's Love Your Pet Day.

As if we really needed such a day. There are more pets than people in the United States--378 million of them versus 290 million of us, according to a survey by American Pet Products Manufacturers.

We own 78 million cats and 65 million dogs. More than 17 million birds and 9 million reptiles. And then there's the fish--all 192 million of them.

Last year, Americans spent an estimated $34.3 billion on pets, from food to grooming to vet care, APPM reports.

We bought them designer coats, jeweled collars and Halloween costumes. We hired nannies, threw birthday parties and took them to the doggy day spa.

Yes, we love our pets.

But they give back so much. When you kiss your hedgehog or, like Fredericksburg fourth-grader Ben Camber, drop a live cricket to that pink-tongued, fat-tailed gecko, you're doing your body good.

Pets lower blood pressure, reduce stress and fight depression.

Barney, the Eclectus parrot

At first glance, Barney is a brilliant Kelly green with a candy-corn beak. But when this 13-year-old Eclectus parrot spreads his wings, he reveals streaks of russet red and deep blue.

Barney goes from striking to magnificent.

Fredericksburg resident Mark Smith, who left a career in banking to follow his heart and breed birds, is Barney's proud owner.

Smith has 30 cages of birds at home, but Barney is one of his favorites. He's got a lot of attitude.

"He likes to be the center of attention," Mark said.

Barney would rather be carried than fly. He chews the curtains. He likes to perch on his owner's chest and pick the man's teeth. Sometimes, he swoops in around the dog.

Pet and man spend a lot of time together. But, the bird "gets locked up [in his cage] when he's in trouble," Mark said.

Barney mostly leads a charmed life, though. He eats grapes and peanut butter sandwiches--his favorite--almost every day.

"Birds are fascinating," Smith said.

Barney knows 100 to 150 words. He used to say, "Here, kitty, kitty." He imitates anyone he hears a lot.

"He's my bud."

House of ferrets

Kaiko was the first. A gift from Renee Embrey's high school sweetheart.

The small, button-eyed ferret is 10 years old now, having outlived her life expectancy by at least three years.

Renee and her sweetheart, Bill--who is now her husband--have grown to a five-ferret household.

There's Anubus, Shinoda, Isis and Maximus. All were rescues, brought home from Maru Pets in Spotsylvania, where Renee works part time as an assistant manager. (She also juggles a nursing degree program and a job at Mary Washington Hospital.)

Ferrets aren't the only thing she's rescued. Someone brought a cockatiel into the pet store. The bird had been thrown out of a moving car window and smashed into two windshields. She had a broken leg and wing, and the veterinarian wasn't hopeful.

"But she came out of it. To look at her now, you'd never know."

The vet bills came to $1,200--and it was all covered by customer donations.

Renee named her Titus. It seemed like a strong name for a strong bird.

Zach the 'Min Pin'

When Mary Wilson saw him across the parking lot three years ago, she fell in love. She knew she had to have him.

She even said it aloud. "Oh, that's the dog for me."

It was a routine-turned-fateful trip to the Fredericksburg-area SPCA. Zach, a miniature pinscher, had been dropped off just a week earlier.

Mary immediately started "adoption proceedings," she recalled.

And Zach, who stands a foot high and weighs 7 pounds, became hers. Or, Mary became Zach's.

"He rules the roost. He's a fistful of energy," said Mary, who lives with husband Joe in downtown Fredericksburg. "And the best watchdog you could ever want."

Zach shares the Wilson home with Zoey, a much larger Labrador mix. But there's no question who's in charge.

He has to be in someone's lap, at eye level, during conversations. He stands on his hind legs to get a look at something.

Anything dropped in the mail slot instantly becomes Zach's property. "He would grab it and tear it to pieces," Mary laughed.

Now, the Wilsons have a box on the porch.

"We spoil him. We let him be his own dog."

Staff Librarian Craig Schulin contributed research to this story.

To reach KRISTIN DAVIS: 540/368-5028 kdavis@freelancestar.com





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