Our 15 + year old green iguana went up to the collard green patch in the sky this morning. Spike was the last of our pets that Hubs adopted from the previous park district that he worked for. He exceeded the expected life span. I guess we didn't do a bad job in caring for him!
Spike came to us when he was a couple of years old. He had been a part of a rain forest exhibit in the visitor center where Hubs was stationed. The decision to have native species only in their animal room was made and Spike (known to them as Iggy) had to go. Hubs agreed to take him to a reptile rescue and when he did, the rescue looked as if it was in need of rescue itself. He said that it was crowded, disgusting and that animals were piled onto each other in cages and aquariums far too small.
Iggy came to live with us.
I said his name had to change.
We adopted Spike and had him as a part of our family. Hubs built him a large, sturdy cage. One that he would have all to himself! He had a ladder to climb so that he could go to the loft above to warm himself under lamps. He had a mama who grew him fresh collards and tomatoes. He had an outdoor cage when the weather wasn't cold. We had to have parts of his tail amputated-- twice. There was a park volunteer who scared him to death and every time she handled him, he dropped his tail. He ended up developing an infection that didn't rear its ugly head until we got him. The vet knew us well, but we got him through!
He lived a good life.
He is now buried next to Smudge. We were certain that they were in cahoots together. The cat and the iguana team-- together again.