The day I almost lost Douglas, again.

A long long time ago, there was a baby iguana named Douglas.
Douglas escaped her captor on Popular St. and ran across the street to the neighbors bushes.

I was able to recover the wily little lizard with a mad swipe of the hand.

She's been living at Honey Camp for more than a year now, and has been in her current enclosure for about a year. I've opened her door a few times and monitored her while she explored the yard.

A few days ago, she was out and about, and TJ and I decided to take out the magnifying glass and find Doug, who was sometimes referred to as Isa, or the iguana. We had her in our scopes for a while.

Upon TJ's instruction, we went to look for her in the bamboo. A few minutes later, we came back to where we last really saw her, and she was gone! Nowhere to be found. Nowhere, nope, nada.

I had to accept that she may be gone for good. That quick. In a blink of an eye, like Prince.

Surely she would come back. This is her home. Unless someone killed her... which is hard to even type.

Sandfly looked. Mateo looked. Even TJ looked a bit.

I don't know how I ended up on the beach, but looking out to the dock...
There I saw her.

Sitting on the dock.
About a halfway down, over water.
Looking over the edge.

"Please don't leave me. Please don't leave me. Please don't leave me." was the mantra I adopted.

We were about 35 feet away from each other. She looked at me. She bobbed her head, "stay away!"

I knew it was too risky to go after her. She is a great swimmer. With arms on their sides, the iguana slips through the water.

Once she held her breath for 30 minutes under water. I thought she'd died. If she went in the lagoon, she'd be gone.

I waited. I walked away. I looked back. I hid behind the coconut tree. I looked back. I walked into the shadows. I looked back. Had she moved?

It looked like she'd come closer! It couldn't be. I sashayed toward the beach, and she was at least 5 feet closer. It doesn't sound like much, but it made the difference between being over open water and land. I had half of a chance now.

I stayed on the ground, walking up the side of the dock. She didn't wave me away–a good sign. I walked past her a few feet, showing that I had other interests. She needn't be concerned.

I sat on the dock, maybe 3 feet from her. She didn't stir.

I leaned in casually, and as I reached, she knew she'd been had.

I was able to grab her without any trouble. As we walked back to her enclosure, it seemed she regretted her trust in me. I felt joyous and awful all at the same time.

History

Almost 2 decades ago, my roommate Tony Barrett and I purchased Douglas at the pet store in the Carbondale Mall when she was just a weeee baby. He paid $5 and I paid $5. I mostly took care of her, but Tony helped too, until he moved away.

Being responsible for this ancient reptile has been an eye-opening experience. She survived a good 5 years on florescent UV light, vegetables, lettuce and iguana food. Then, a finger fell off. I was in Mississippi when it happened, and was fortunate enough to find a herp vet who educated me on proper diet. In the states, an iguana really needs a regular supply of collard greens. He encouraged me to investigate and to learn more. I did and found two great websites that I often reference. http://www.greenigsociety.org and.... hummm..... I'm not sure what the other one is.

In any case, it came to my attention that there are some fairly considerable problems with promoting iguanas as pets. Without going into all the details, I can tell you that I do not think iguanas should be sold in pet stores. After years of creating sub-tropical environments in room after room, and in house after house for Douglas to be comfortable and healthy, I was faced with the opportunity to take her to Belize–an environment native to green iguanas like Doug.

She thrives here. It seems on the sun alone, she can live...  although I realize she needs to digest nutrition too. In any case, here she is, in the most ideal environment, and I cannot release her.

It's too risky. There are too many people in the area who would shoot her, and she is not afraid of them. This is the line between responsible parenting and letting your loved ones pursue their instincts. I'm afraid I have to keep her under my wing for now. She is gravid, and cannot climb with a belly full of eggs. I'm saddened by this, because I know that one swim in Honey Camp Lagoon would make her the happiest iguana ever.

I would be even more sad if I thought I had released her only to be shot by a careless human.