The phone rang.
"Judy, it's Ann. There's an iguana in your son's back yard."
Huh?
"An iguana."
Ohhhh. I wanna see. I'll be right over.
I was thinking something big. Not Monitor Lizard size, but dog-size at least - and they do get that big, according to Wikipedia.
My son and his family live across the street from me, so Ann's call was not surprising.
I went into Ann's back yard, rather than my son's.
If it was a dog-sized iguana, I wanted to look, but not touch.
Lizards I can deal with. Catch them in the house and toss them outside so Lilly, the Great Hunter, won't kill them.
But not a dog-size iguana.
Ann stood in her back yard with a broom in her hand.
She was ready, she said, to fight off the beast.
Where is it?
She pointed to my son's dock. "Over there."
I looked.
Where?
"OVER THERE!"
I looked again but still saw no beast.
From the way she talked on the phone, I thought the iguana was at least eating the orchids or attacking the screened porch.
But I still couldn't see him - or her.
Where?
OVER THERE UNDER THE PADDLE BOAT.
Ah. There was the beast.
His - or her - bright green head peeked out from underneath the overturned paddle boat.
He - or she - must have sensed we were looking at her - or him.
He - or she - crawled out from under the boat and trotted down the sea wall to another neighbor's house.
The beast was hardly a creature to fear - at least individually.
It was a little bigger than the one in the photo above. But not much.
It will grow, however.
And given that the green iguana has become an invasive species in Florida - particularly along the gulf coast including in Pinellas County - he - or she - will multiply.
Great - another destructive invasive species.
Too bad they don't eat punk trees or Brazillian pepper.