The red light from the iguana room glows softly, and I know without looking that my iguana is in her corner, her head resting gently on her favorite plant as she sleeps. If I were to go into her enclosure, she might open one eye to see what I'm doing, but she won't move at all in this restful state. Her bedtime is 7 p.m. sharp - without fail. That's about the only predictable thing about this pet. What a pain-in-the-neck pet to be stuck with. How many times have I said, "If I only knew then what I know now"? When I decided to add an iguana to our long list of pets, who would have thought it would require such dedication and commitment? Now don't get me wrong - I really do enjoy her, and I do care for her very much. But the physical and financial demands of owning this pet are beyond what I had ever imagined.
My iguana "journey" began when my daughter asked repeatedly for a "lizard." She had guinea pigs, hamsters, bunnies, goats, chickens, dogs, and cats. I felt she would be responsible and take care of it. I went to the pet store and asked what I thought to be the appropriate questions: How much will it cost? What do we keep it in? What do we feed it? Things like that. I bought a book about iguanas along with the aquarium, rock heater, food bowl, and heat lamp that were suggested by the girl helping me.
As the weeks passed, we remarked on how easy this pet was to have. It hardly ate any of the little iguana pellets, rarely went to the bathroom, and didn't smell bad. One day, however, I noticed that the legs were shaking uncontrollably with quick little jerks. Also, the iguana, now known as Iggy, didn't seem to scamper about her aquarium anymore. She barely moved. In fact, she was kind of dragging herself, barely lifting herself up off the ground. Hmmm...how odd. Well, I thought to myself, that's the end of that pet. Too bad; it's kind of cute.