Where’s Wally? The Missing Emotional Support Alligator
This man is Joie Henney with his 8-foot-long emotional support alligator named Wally. One of them should be locked away for their own safety and the safety of others. The other one is an alligator.
Recently a quirky small news story caught my attention. It was about an elderly Pennsylvania man named Joie Henney, whose pet named Wally had gone missing. But Wally wasn’t a Schnauzer, a Dachshund, or even one of those annoyingly persnickety Persian cats. You see, Wally is well, a little different. He’s an emotional support reptile. To be more specific, an emotional support ALLIGATOR! I hear you. I didn’t know that was a thing either. Wally is an eight-year-old alligator and, at last count, the last remaining emotional support gator in the world (and I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess he’s also the world’s first).
Mr. Henney did a road trip to Georgia in April 2024, and, as any caring pet owner might do, he decided to bring his pet along for the ride. But while he was visiting a friend, his scaly scallywag escaped from an enclosed pond and has not been seen since. Apparently, before his Great Escape, Wally and Mr. Henney had been inseparable. Mr. Henney took Wally everywhere – to friends’ houses, restaurants, and even minor league baseball games. I don’t know this for a fact, but I feel confident in speculating that Mr. Henney is not married. He strikes me as a man who doesn’t like normal pets – either that or he has extremely poor eyesight and mistook Wally for a hairless, barkless Great Dane.
When asked why he cares so much about this alligator, Mr. Henney insists his menacing-looking companion behaves more like a dog than a reptile – if you can ignore the minor fact that he has scales, a threateningly long tail that look like a dinosaur, and a bite force measured at 2,000 pounds per square inch – enough to crush a human skull like a Styrofoam cup.
Mr. Henney asks people to look past his intimidating appearance – and that of his alligator. He explains that Wally “is just loveable. He sleeps with me, steals my pillows, steals my blankets.” Sounds adorable, but I’d still caution against trying to spoon with Wally on the sofa – unless you feed him one of his favorite bedtime snacks first. I did some research and learned that gators like Wally love to snack on live snakes, turtles, and the occasional Yorkshire Terrier.
In an effort to help Mr. Henney reunite with his lovable lost lizard, I’ve crafted this helpful LOST PET poster. Please print out copies and circulate them anywhere you think Wally might have wondered off, such as a bowling alley, a Chinese restaurant, or Beaver Creek Elementary School.
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Hello. I’m Wally. I’m an Emotional Support Reptile and I’m lost. Will you please help me find my owner?
I was just hanging out in a stranger’s swimming pool, when I decided to climb their ten-foot fence. Then I started on my Walk-About journey. The next thing I knew I was lost. I vaguely recall approaching a crowd of people in a Dairy Queen parking lot, but then they all started sprinting away from me, screaming in terror, before I could ask for directions home.
I am actually very smart and will respond when my name, “WALLY,” is spoken. I also respond to several other commands including Come, Sit, and Let Go of Her. My favorite things to do are snuggling with my owner, lying on the couch watching reruns of Everybody Loves Raymond, and doing an occasional Alligator Death Roll clenching my teeth on a plump, chewy river otter.
If you see me, don’t be afraid. I am very lovable. Honest! It is simply not true that all alligators are dangerous and aggressive. In fact, I am probably more afraid of you than you are of me. The only times I would ever attack a human are if it’s mating season, my territory is being threatened, or I’m feeling a little hangry.
I should be easy to spot. I am eight feet long, have 80 sharp teeth, each averaging two inches in length, and I can run up to 35 mph – so no, you can’t outrun me. Don’t even try. But you won’t have to, because, I won’t hurt you, I promise.
Oh sure, I look pretty much like any other alligator. If you run into one of my cousins, they may not be quite as amiable as I am. Most of them still have an axe to grind about how you humans keep making them into boots, belts, purses, and wallets.
But don’t worry. I’m a friendly gator. You can pat me on the belly or behind the ear – although, I’m not really sure where my ears are located, or even if I have ears, now that I think of it.
Before my disappearance, my owner used to take me to fun places like parks and zoos and, in this photo, the local Subway restaurant. I love going to restaurants because everyone I see looks so tasty. I mean everyTHING I see looks so tasty. I was talking about the menu. Sorry if that was confusing.
Please help me find my owner. He’s even put out a generous reward for my safe return. I’m not exactly sure what his reward will be. I’m hoping a nice, juicy baby panda. Yum!
When you spot me, it will be easy to capture me. Just roll me over with my belly facing up, and I will go totally limp within 15 seconds. I have no idea why that works. But it blows people’s minds. That said, just to be sure, you might also want to have at the ready a tranquilizer dart gun filled with diazepam followed by an administration of succinylcholine chloride, in the remote chance the “roll me on my back” maneuver startles me.
If you spot me, please don’t do any of the following things: 1) try to collar me with that lasso strap thing (it hurts); 2) take a selfie of you riding me bareback (that’s just humiliating); or 3) attempt to dress me up in leather boots and a leather belt. (I get the irony. It’s just not funny.)
Please help me find my owner, won’t you? If you do, I promise to show you my appreciation the best way I know how – by depositing a recently deceased Yorkie on your door step. No need to thank me. It’s the least I could do.
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That’s the view from the bleachers. Perhaps I’m off base.
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