Sunday, May 18, 2014

The Iguana. An email to my friends.

2012. Circa.

Yeah, sooooo... I'm house sitting and in charge of feeding my friend's pets while they are in Hawaii.

Today, which is only my second day of feeding, I arrive at the compound to hear the loud cluck, cluck, clucking of the chicken who is very much trapped and hungry in his little red hutch. His hutch smells like farm crap as I release the latch to throw in a handful of feed, as though I am Laura Ingalls. Gross. He begins pecking immediately... as he is starved, I imagine. While he's pecking about, I have to forage around in the hutch underneath him for the two tan, speckled (might I add ORGANIC) eggs which are laying in waiting. Eggs in hand, I maneuver out his plastic watering contraption, which I discover is a tad fetid and smells like I have to be careful not to spill it on my heels as I walk ahead to find the water spigget. I set the eggs down, they will go in the fridge with the other dozen collecting there. While I go to the water, I realize I've forgotten to latch the hutch, so as I return with his water, I see the chicken happily hopping about yelling, "I'm freeeee! I'm freeee!" I run after it, heels and all, and grab it's fat body and throw it back in the coop. I'm in heels because I have to go be a book keeper in 30 minutes at my freelance job in Culver City.


I continue on the side pathway of the compound to tend to the separately caged rabbit and two guinea pigs. Rabbit is jumpin' up on the cage like, "Yo, son, Where you beeeeen?" I quickly throw some hay his way and he is chill. The Guinea's on the other hand are so freaking parched because their water bottle is MacGyver-rigged and it has fallen down. It has been one day since I've visited, so about 36 hours with no water. The black and white one's mouth is moving so fast as he tries to clamp on the silver watering tube, I have to say, "Whoa, Charlie [not his name] slow your roll." But he doesn't slow, nor does he move aside so Brown and White can get a grip on the water, too. Fighting ensues. Brown and White whines, "Can a brother get a drink of water..????!?!" Black and White, not letting go "No". So Brown and White snaps and chest bumps 'til Black and White finally moves. He then just runs around to cage like a crazy person (guinea) til the other finally moves.


I head inside to feed the cat. All is well there. She is meowing like crazy. So lonely. She nuzzles me so many times, I feel I am being molested a bit. I can only pet her so many times; I do have to get to work after all.

Time for the Iguana. In the bathroom. In the back. I place the organic eggs in the fridge and grab some kale and carrots and head on my way across the stone floor. Kitty is trailing me, weaving between my legs, tripping me up. I've taken off my heels as so not to track dirt in the house from the farm.

I get to the bathroom and approach the very large cage which is behind the sink near the window. I'm peering through my glasses, cocking my head, standing on tip toe, looking, looking, looking for the multi-colored, mostly green scaly Igster amongst the foliage and wood in the cage. Igster is at least 4 feet long. Distinctive mohawk. Little hard to hide. Hmmm.

"Where's the Iguana?" I say out loud to Kitty. She looks at me, "I dunno." I look at the cage again, and there, low and behold, the little door is wide open. Igster has escaped.

I start frantically looking around, kale and carrot still in hand..."Kitty, where Iguana...?!!!" Her gray round face has no answers for me, even though I KNOW she knows.

Now, I'm scared and late for work. I imagine Igster is staring at me from under a bed or something. I have no shoes on, I'm half waiting for him to slither across my toes and scrape me with his Iguana claws. I'm scared. There are so many closets, and doors and beds and this and that, Igster can be anywhere. I run back out to my car for my cell, because I now have to send an alert text to Hawaii: "There's a problem. No Iguana". I wait for a response. It comes: "That's a problem".

I text, "Will he bite me when I find him?"

Text response, "If you find him, cover with a towel. His tail whips. You need an extra set of hands if possible."


Who wants to go hunt an Iguana with me tomorrow? :)

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