Iguana Tales. Guest Blog by dog trainer, Janet Goodman

Iguanas in Miami are unappreciated as the wild animals that they are. Because of their natural iguana behavior, they are hated: for eating landscaping, pooping on decks and carrying salmonella bacteria. Miamians are known to cook them up for dinner. Young boys enjoy capturing them and turning them into pets. They are even used for target practice.

Personally, I get a kick out of watching them scamper about in my backyard. Biscayne Canal is home to thousands, and since I’ve lived on the canal, I’ve become the unofficial Iguana Patrol. I’ve shooed many a youngster out of my Brazilian Pepper tree which overhangs the water, when they climb up there and try to lasso the critters. Men paddling by in boats, knocking them out of the trees with their oars, get an earful from the crazy iguana-lover lady. One boy, about eleven years old, had a five-foot one on a rope by the neck, dragging it underwater alongside his Jon boat. I let him have it, screaming that the iguana was not a fish and he would drown being mishandled like that. “For God’s sake, bring that poor animal on board”. He motored off with the iguana tucked under his arm.

Even our weather has been enemy to my cold-blooded friends. (hit read more) The recent stint of sub-forty-degree temperatures this January killed many. I witnessed several dropping out of trees, some as long as five days after the freezing temperatures had lifted. Most of the fallen flat-out died, but a couple of the lucky young ones revived after the warm-up.

Once in a while, larger ones get themselves stuck in the chain-link fencing around my property. I’ll hear the ching-ching sound of the metal and run outside to see a dragon frantically trying to free itself. They think they’re still little fellers that can slide right through. When they’re wedged in there good and tight, and I can’t pry them out, I’ll cut the fencing around them. I already told you that I’m a crazy iguana-lover lady.

With all this angst and worry over the plight of these magnificent creatures, imagine my horror when my beloved two-year-old Louisiana Catahoula Leopard Dog became a major player in the anti-iguana movement.

Catahoulas have a whole lot of prey drive. They love to run after things. They were bred to hunt wild hogs in our southern states. My dog Bo loves to retrieve a rubber Kong toy in the backyard. One day he emerged from the bushes with something other than a big red Kong in his mouth.

At first, it looked like a stick; as I got closer, I could see the black bands, one after another, up the scaly green and orange shaft. I yelped, quickly grabbed it from him, and threw it in the canal.

A day or two later, when I opened the back door and let Bo out in the yard, he made a mad dash towards the water. I was right behind him, but it was too late; by the time I got to him, he had the wiggling tail in his teeth, and the tail’s previous owner was well on its way to freedom across the canal.

After that, I started casing the property before letting out the dog, scattering all iguanas. Even so, a daring one would pop onto the brick patio, and Bo would be right there. Turns out, in order to survive, this reptile can release its own tail when in a threatening situation. The predator is left holding the tail, while the rest of the iguana safely escapes. Good news is that the appendage can grow back, somewhat. Every so often I see a tailless iguana sunning itself on the deck, and I recognize that handiwork.  So, for all the iguana-scrooges out there: You can take the tail from the iguana, but you can’t take the iguana from my tale. Better yet: you can take the tail from the iguana, but you just can’t keep him out of your yard.