The terrible cost of cute and cuddly

The wildlife trade has touched most species on the planet. Its vicious tentacles have cusped insects, fish, reptiles, amphibians and mammals of all sizes and shapes. A big part driving this trade is the human obsession with having wildlife as ‘pets’. 

Dogs and cats have become passé and exotic pets, available at the click of a button, are slowly making their way into the world of companion animals.

Social media platforms are adding fuel to the fire. Celebrities posing with ball pythons twirled around their necks or petting tiny spider monkeys in the comfort of their luxury homes are setting a rather dangerous trend. Those hungry for social media eyeballs are quick to latch on to these ‘trends’ and milk views and engagement. Thus, having an exotic pet has become the next ‘cool’ thing. 

To bring home an exotic pet, one need not scour the Amazonian jungles or the Congolese rainforests—a visit to a local pet store suffices. The catalogues of most big pet stores in the heart of Bengaluru have Brazillian macaws, Burmese pythons and Madagascar lemurs for sale at exorbitant prices. Too busy to brave the traffic for a visit? Turn to their YouTube channel or Instagram pages for a quick tour and choose your pick—it might even be delivered to you in 10 minutes! 

Exotic pets come at a huge cost

Exotic pets are cute and cuddly. But they come at a huge cost—for the species, for the planet, and for you. For starters, they are mostly illegal to keep. There are international laws that prohibit trade in some species and local laws that bar one from keeping certain wildlife. Plus, the documentation one needs to keep exotic wildlife is extensive and expensive and I doubt if the local pet store can help you with it, even if they claim so. There’s a big risk of being behind bars or paying huge fines if one is caught with such animals.

The animals traded as exotic pets are most likely caught in the wild because breeding them is challenging and rarely successful. Often, they are snatched young from their parents, who mostly die fiercely resisting their younglings being taken away. The wild capture is not ‘one and done’: the surging demand for a species translates to many being taken away from the wild. It does not take long before this manic steal dwindles their numbers, hurting the ecosystem in which they live. 

Then comes their inhuman transport. To escape the watchful eyes of the authorities, the wild-caught animals are often drugged, stuffed in suitcases, or crammed in tiny containers where they struggle to get a whiff of air. Many perish in this journey. Some end up with grievous injuries or deadly diseases and are left to die a painful death. A few that survive are traumatised for life. These are the ones sold in the pet stores and online. 

Even in the best-case scenario, caring for them in the confines of a house can never compare to the life in the wild that they were destined for. Born thousands of miles away, their anatomy is built for diets that are unavailable in another geography. Getting veterinary care is often impossible because local vets barely know about the diseases these animals are prone to. And what happens when one does not want their exotic pet anymore? Releasing them in the wild would be catastrophic for local wildlife, and without a dedicated rescue centre trained to care for exotic animals, the only ‘responsible’ option is to cull them. 

But the most worrisome aspect of keeping exotic pets is the diseases they can pass on to humans. We get our dogs and cats vaccinated to keep away lethal diseases like rabies—both for humans and animals. A similar slew of vaccines are available for livestock. But who knows what vaccinations these exotic animals need? We barely know what diseases they can get and pass on to humans—a major missing piece in the Covid-19 puzzle. When I saw a toddler play with spider monkeys at a pet store, it sent shivers down my spine. Do we know for sure these animals aren’t carrying the next deadly virus? 

Tailspin is your monthly column on everything that’s heartwarming and annoying about pet parenting.

The writer is a science communicator and mom to Pippi, a six-year-old rescued Indie. She posts on X @RamanSpoorthy