While Lepidodactylus lugubris represented my first contact with the world of microgeckos, the species that made me fall in love with this universe forever was another.
Heteronotia binoei.
And the funny thing is, for a long time they seemed almost unattainable! For months I searched for breeders, checked ads, asked for information in groups and at fairs; even my friends joined in the search because they saw how desperate I was!
Nothing, they simply didn't seem to exist. Every time I found someone who bred them, they weren't available, and if I found an ad, it was already too late. The more time passed, the more I began to think that maybe I should have given up on the idea.
Then, in November 2024, something happened that I still consider a stroke of luck. A dear friend sent me an ad.
Three adult females and two subadults, Heteronotia binoei. I still remember the feeling: the species I'd searched for everywhere was suddenly there.
Real. Available.
A few weeks later, they left Germany and arrived with me in December, and without exaggeration, my hobby life has never been the same. From the first days, I knew they had something special. They were tiny but tireless, always on the move, always busy exploring, digging, or hunting. Every evening I ended up spending more time than expected observing them, and at night I heard them emitting delicate croaks to communicate with each other.
Then summer arrived, and with it, the first eggs. I still remember the excitement, especially because that year everything was going wrong. None of my cresteds seemed to have any intention of breeding; the eggs I expected weren't coming. After so much effort searching for the right breeders, I was practically left empty-handed!
H. binoei, however, decided to completely ignore my plans and do what they wanted. They laid, oh yes, they laid. 25 eggs in the span of five months, eggs that developed and from which my very first baby Heteronotia binoei hatched. Even today, I struggle to describe how beautiful it was to see those tiny geckos running around, perfectly healthy and incredibly easy to care for.
It was confirmation that everything was working, that this path made sense, that this species truly had something special.
But there's another reason why H. binoei holds such an important place in my story. They were the first to make me realize that I wasn't the only one who saw something fascinating in microgeckos.
Once I started sharing the project, more and more people began to take an interest. They asked me questions, wanted to know more, followed the hatchings, and became curious about species that until a few months earlier seemed to interest only me.
It was in that moment that I realized something very simple. I hadn't just fallen in love with a species. I had fallen in love with an entire philosophy.
Heteronotia binoei were simply the spark that finally lit that fire.
And even today, every time I open one of their boxes, they remind me exactly why I chose this path.