HOBBY HORSE: EXOTIC PETSOwnership of bizarre animals from abroad may carry an aura of machismo, but women are just as interested as blokes, according to expert Eric Lynch. Eoin Butlerreports.
'THEY'RE VERY SHY REALLY," says Eric Lynch, dipping his hand into the piranha tank and flapping it about in the water. He turns around to observe my reaction. I'm standing about two feet behind him. I'm half expecting the fish to pull him under at any moment. And I don't want him taking me with him when they do. After all, if popular culture has taught me anything about piranhas, it's that they are remorseless predators, with an insatiable appetite for human flesh. To my surprise, however, they blithely ignore this provocation. So what gives?
"It's a bit of a myth to be honest," Eric contends. "Piranhas really aren't that aggressive at all." How then did this misconception arise? He purses his lips and backtracks slightly. "Don't get me wrong," he says. "They'll attack if they sense, you know, weakness or unease. One of them will suss out the opportunity and, next thing, all of them will attack. But, generally, they're fairly docile." Right, I tell him, I think I understand. I'm safe around piranhas, but only as long as they don't start talking to me about golf or rugby.
Eric (25), has been working in the basement tropical fish and reptile house at Wackers Pet Shop in Dublin for four years. He gives me the guided tour. Pets for sale here include everything from an Indian Star Tortoise for €450 to boxes full of noisy crickets for just €5. (The latter, I assume, are sold as pet food, rather than pets in their own right.) Eric has been keeping exotic animals since he was 12 and is completely at home around them, which is more than can be said for this writer. The only animals I'm comfortable around are dead and on my plate. "This is the Chilean Rose Tarantula," says Eric, fishing another hideous insect from a plastic box and beckoning for me to put out my hand.
No way. I shake my head. I've already handled some dubious pretty species here today. But I'm drawing a line at the Chilean Rose Tarantula. "They don't bite," he assures me. Neither does a jar of eyeballs, I shrug. That doesn't mean I want to pick it up. Besides, this is a newspaper article and not a television programme. Any entertainment value, for the reader, in my going through such an ordeal would be virtually negligible.
And so it is on a solidly utilitarian principle, then, that I respectfully decline. But Eric continues to insist. It looks as though my masculinity is being called into question, so I reluctantly consent. Surprise, surprise then, the Chilean Rose is definitely creepy and it's definitely crawly. So happy to be able to confirm that.
Next up is the Red Rum Tarantula, who thankfully will be staying in his box for the duration of our acquaintance. The Red Rum, apparently, likes to introduce himself by painfully "hair flicking" visitors - whatever that means. He's a snip at only €50. That concludes the tour. What kind of person, I ask Eric, wants to keep a snake that smells fear, or a lizard that could snap your finger off, or a fish tank that could practically devour a small child?
"Every kind of person," smiles Eric. "You name it. This is a hobby that attracts people across the board."
In the 40 minutes I've been here, though, I've only seen young men. Would it be fair to say that his customers are predominately male?
"Oh, no. No."
Mostly male?
"No."
More women come in here than men?
"No."
So more men than women then?
"Well, probably. But not by too much, we get lots of women."
Trade in non-indigenous pets is currently unregulated. But Eric sees that situation changing. "You will need a licence for some of these animals soon," he says. "Right now, a lot of fellas want the Cayman, the croc. It's an image thing really, the same as a pit bull." Realistically, he says, pet owners should have at least eight years' experience of handling reptiles before they own a Cayman. "There's only a small few who are giving the rest a bad name. These guys don't know anything about reptiles, and suddenly they want a crocodile. It doesn't work that way." What would happen if one of these pets ever escaped? Would they be able to forage? "Probably not, not in the conditions we have in Ireland. When they get cold they shut down, so they wouldn't be to able to move a lot. I wouldn't imagine they'd get too far."