Gladden T. Hart is the father of this sugar glider family. Phillip brought him home in February, 1996. That was 9 months before I moved in.

Gladden and I have gotten off on the wrong foot. (Although, I don't know if sugar gliders have feet - or four hands.) I don't mean that Gladden doesn't love me. He does, and I love him back. But I don't think he's ever completely trusted me. I am the step-daddy, in some respects. I moved in long after he bonded with Phillip. I distrupted his routine. I was the one who brought Gladys and Squeak home and moved them in. (That's the way he sees it, I'm pretty sure.) I am the one who usually puts him to bed when play time is over.

Gladden is a creature of deep emotions. He is loving and protective of Squeak, but he also needs his solitude. For an hour a night, Phillip and I let the sugar gliders loose in the bedroom for "play time." And for part of each play time, Gladden goes off by himself to the darkness under the futon, or to the comfort of the dresser drawer.

Gladden loves food (maybe a little too much, I'm afraid), especially artichoke hearts.

Gladden is a good boy. He strives to do what is right. He wants to be nice, even if that means he becomes the victim of Squeak's bullying. He does not wish to cause trouble. (OK, he will resist being put back into the cage when play time is over. But he does so in a purely defensive manner.)

I suspect that Gladden T. Hart is a poet.