The Dangers of Gecko Poo

In Asia the Gecko is ubiquitous and everywhere. In every land in the Orient the sound of a “Geckow !" is heard as it sits stuck on ceiling, on walls, and under floors waiting for its next meal of mosquito, or cockroach, or Ribena to happen along. In the steaming, humid heat that is Asia it is almost a comfort to see these little bug eyed, big-fingered, saurians running around your home; you would think helping to keep down and control the hordes of blood-sucking, bacteria-carrying, toe-nipping insectoids and arachnoids that can blight your life here

And the geckos’ in the east vary in size massively, from the inch long beige babies of HK, to the long striped leopard-like leapers of Thailand, to gecko’s as big as a rat - eying up your infant - in Bali. And they are carnivores - with a capital C - eating anything that moves, is powered by blood, emits CO2, and can fit into their mouth. The Nav often wonders what it would have been like if the dog breeders of old had started their genetic experimentations not with the wolf, but with the friendly little gecko. Many a suburbanite of today probably would have disappeared without a trace on their way to collect their morning newspapers from their mailbox – the blame swiftly apportioned to the next-door neighbours new 8 foot long pet named ‘Gordon’

(Nav Ed Note – Gecko is any of numerous small, mostly nocturnal tropical lizards of the family Gekkonidae, usually having toe pads that can cling to smooth surfaces. The largest species, Gekko gecko, is sometimes kept as a pet)

But far from being a benign helper in health, gecko’s poo – alot – and it can be both a danger to your home and deadly to the little gecko. On many an occasion, The Nav has awoken in the morning and stumbled out to his wider apartment to see in the blink of an eye or hear in the buzz of an ear one of these miniscule dinosauric monsters scuttling around his home - following an age-old instinct to avoid being caught, skewered, and barbequed by a human that looks to them like Godzilla

Initially all has been well, The Nav smiling to these friendly little fellas, talking to them the way you talk to your pet puppy – until The Nav sees the poo ! And boy, given the scale size of these little beasts, what poo it is ! Long, brown, sticky smears along The Nav’s walls; somehow defying gravity as these slicks are invariably oriented upwards towards the sky. These offerings the little beige buggers’ assistance to keeping our planet green, the acid content burning long brown marks into The Nav’s beige walls, difficult to explain to a potential new apartment buyer, the smears so high up they represent a cleaning challenge requiring mountain climbing crampons and belaying ropes to reach and delete

But this relatively minor indiscretion to you or The Nav is nothing compared to the risk to the poor little gecko of slipping on his own poo. You or The Nav would merely raise our foot, issue a similarly meaning expletive, and wipe the ooze off. But for the little gecko it invariably means muerta, dood, and death. Imagine yourself hanging to the side of the Empire State Building, at once moving at speed across its external glass and granite walls, detaching and lifting feet in tandem, thereby at any one time only attached by two appendages. And what if these two momentarily connected appendages happened to hit a brown slick at speed – decoupling you from your secure situation over a thousand feet above the earth – you then cartwheeling downwards the relative equivalent of over 100 stories towards a bone-crushing death on your bathroom floor. Many a time The Nav has tried to give cardiopulmonary resuscitation to a poor little gecko found in convulsions on The Nav’s floor – but never with any success. The Nav’s roof pot plants now littered with many little wooden crosses, his domestic saurian friends sent to the big roof in the sky, to be judged in front of the ‘Big Gecko’ above

And the Ribena ? Gecko’s love Ribena. On many an occasion a gecko has been caught taking his morning bath in The Nav’s drink detritus – the little lizard licking all parts of this delicious drink from lense, and sucker, and tail. Rather than being angry, The Nav encourages his little mates to joyously experience this the nectar of the supermarket fruit world, knowing that it could well be the poor little guy’s last supper – a dead gecko walking – and The Nav would want his little saurian mate to enjoy his last meal in ecstacy

This is the challenge of the little gecko in Asia as it negotiates your ceiling at speed. And imagine if they had vocal chords as they hurtled headlong towards the floor. You wouldn’t get much sleep

This is The Nav. Wiping his feet