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Iguanapocalypse AKA My life in Puerto Rico

So, if any of you follow me on Instagram, you will probably know that I live in a house that is more or less an iguana sanctuary. I mean, not the actual interior of my home, but my yard, roof, and garage are generally teeming with these guys. There are lots of iguanas in Puerto Rico, and they all seem to know that my house is the happening place.

Mikey, in my garage. My first close encounter with an iguana (when I tried to open the door he is hanging on)

Mikey, in my garage. My first close encounter with an iguana (when I tried to open the door he is hanging on)

Iguanas are freaky, but as a Midwesterner, I also find them a bit fascinating, which is why as long as they are just chilling on my roof, I tend to just snap a photo, Instagram it, and move on with my day. I even name the regulars. So far I have Ignacio (the biggest, oldest, and most terrifying of them all), Quintín (also old and scary, clearly Ignacio’s right hand man), Juanito (medium sized, a real jerk), Antonio (slightly smaller, but gutsy), and Mikey (young and spunky, like his TMNT counterpart). It all seemed whimsical and only slightly scary until today. Today these are my thoughts on this situation:

I’M GETTING TIRED OF THESE MOTHAFUCKIN’ IGUANAS UP IN THIS MOTHAFUCKIN’ HOUSE.

Ignacio. This crochety old dude is just hanging off my roof over my porch like he owns the damn place.

Ignacio. This crochety old dude is just hanging off my roof over my porch like he owns the damn place.

Most of them hang out on the side of the house, or in our neighbors yard, which is blocked by a fence. So usually, my dog, Padfoot, is safe (if not incredibly annoying) while he barks and whines at them. Today was a particularly iguana-filled day. It was like an iguana family reunion. First Juanito, the dick that likes to hang out on the fence and have staring contests with Padfoot, showed up to bask in the sun. I let Padfoot bark at him for a while, then brought him inside. Shortly thereafter, Antonio showed up to hang out with Juanito. Antonio is a particularly ballsy motherfucker, because Padfoot has cornered him before. Padfoot thought he had killed him once, but that smart bastard was actually playing dead and ran like the wind as soon as Padfoot was clear. BUT HERE HE IS ON MY FREAKING FENCE AGAIN.

Antonio. I only got this close to him because I THOUGHT HE WAS DEAD.

Antonio. I only got this close to him because I THOUGHT HE WAS DEAD.

Then, freaking Quintín shows up! Quintín is a particularly large and grisly looking iguana, a good 6 feet long. He has been in my garage before, and I respect his space slash totally fear him. Padfoot could not handle this, so I brought him indoors.

Zoomed in from my window after Quintín LEAPT OFF MY ROOF into my yard.

Zoomed in from my window after Quintín LEAPT OFF MY ROOF into my yard.

So after enduring way too much of Padfoot’s on and off barking at windows and doors, I trapped him in the office with me so I could attempt to get some work done. After about an hour, I peeked outside and saw that everyone had vacated the premises, or so I thought. I let Padfoot outside and guess what? JUANITO IS ON THE PATIO. Luckily, there is a gate on the patio. Padfoot can squeeze through the bars, but only with some wiggling, so I quickly snapped up a very squirrely, crazy-eyed Padfoot and dragged him inside while Juanito scampered about.

Slightly out of breath and just a little flush from the near-disaster, I decide to take Padfoot out front so he can do his business. Little did I know that Antonio was chillin’ in my garage.

CUE ALL THE SCREAMING.

Padfoot bolts after him, heading him off towards the back of the garage where Antonio has no escape. Antonio is not a particularly large iguana, but he still has a mighty tail that can whip and cut. His entire scaly body is also covered in salmonella. So, while I am screaming “NO, PADFOOT, NO!” Padfoot and Antonio are taking turns biting each other and making horrible noises. I want to save Padfoot, but I am also wearing flip flops and shorts and not particularly fond of the idea of being whipped by a salmonella tail. This resulted in an incredibly awkward running and screaming combo. Also arm flailing. I’d run at Padfoot, but then Antonio would run at me, so I’d scream and run away. Then Padfoot would grab him, so I’d run back to save him.

SCREAMING. RUNNING. GENERAL CONFUSION BY ALL PARTIES.

Then I found a rake and proceed to throw it at the iguana. This seemed to shock the iguana and Padfoot equally, giving me time to snatch up Padfoot and run like crazy back into the house.

IGUANAPOCALYPSE GUYS. IGUANA FREAKING POCALYPSE UP IN MY HOUSE.

Here’s a 38 second video recap of what my day looked like (terrible quality but the point gets across):

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