Iguana Bonding

You may have noticed that this so called blog has been on hiatus.
My excuses are many.
Mom on island for the holidays. Moving for the fourth time in a year.
My attempt at a comeback is a few daily nuggets from recent island life.

So, last week on my way back to work from lunch, I notice my favorite downtown cop outside the coffee shop of my employ expertly holding a bright green iguana in both hands. I approach, nodding toward the iguana,

"Why?” I ask.

"He was in the street about to be hit by a car, so I'm moving him to the grass." (This gentle act exemplifies why I like Spratley best.)

Since he is safely in the arms of the officer, unable to crawl over my foot or up my leg, I invoke the courage to pet the lizard. (Okay, after a few reads, I just noticed the double meaning of the preceding few words. But honestly, what can you do when you’re seriously talking about touching a reptile?!) I softly stroke his back with two fingers and notice the eye that previously looked at me is now closed. I interpret this as a sign of relaxation.

"Does that feel good, honey?" I ask the lizard, in my just-for-animals voice.

"If you stroke the top of his head, he'll close both of his eyes. They like that," says Officer Spratley.

I stroke the top of the iguana’s head and the eye facing me closes again. I sincerely hope the one on the other side of his head is doing the same, but don’t think to ask. And in this silly little moment, my heart opens to the reptile. Making him feel good makes me feel good and the whole interaction makes me feel more connected to the island.

I suppose now it will be even more traumatic when Harley drags their carcasses into the house.