In 1999, a green iguana was displayed in a day care center. He's not your average cuddly creature like a dog, so perhaps the five year old children mistakenly tried to treat him like one. His tail was broken about halfway between the tip and his body.

The following year, he measured between 24 and 26 inches from his head to the tip of what tail he had. How do I know this? I measured him personally. When he was about a year old, some of the employees of the day care realized he was being abused. Through a mutual friend, my first wife found out about the situation. She had owned a hedgehog which had died that year. Looking to fill the void with another exotic pet, she discussed the idea of owning a green iguana with me, and I agreed.

These guys grow to be something entirely different than the cute, wide eyed little lizards you see in the pet shop. I think that the cutesy appearance attracts too many people to the green iguana who don't realize what kind of commitment he or she requires. I, personally, have seen baby iguanas one only one or two occasions, both in pet stores. On one occasion, I was informed by the caretaker not to be startled, but there was a rather large green iguana behind me. I turned, of course, and was at eye level with a female iguana whose main body was the size of my forearm. Never mind the tail, she was a lot larger than I would have expected. My response was, "Hey! How are you today?" and I told the caretaker that I owned a green iguana myself.

In any case, since it's not apparent at first what kind of care they require, I think that anyone who's considering such an animal for a pet should be required to attend a class that teaches some of the tasks required, and should be required to perform those tasks before any adoption takes place.

My first mistake was to assume that our green lizard would be OK in the same cage we had for the hedgehog. Like Gracie, he could be fed outside his cage, and even spend most of the day outside it. He grew about half again the size he was when we got him, and the cage was far too small. His temper got short, and I don't think he was happy. So I considered building him a new cage.

My in laws had a wooden crate that was built around a rather large pallet. It looked perfect, since all I had to do was screen the open part, stand it up, and put wheels on it. Later when he grew even more, I planned to move the wheels to what was the back wall, flip the thing 90 degrees so the wall was now the floor, and build up the sides to a height of to 8 feet. The crate worked perfect, IMO. I built a custom top for it that was screened all the way around and had plenty of room for the perfect reptile to bask in the heat lamps. It took several weeks to build. Most of the time during the construction, our lizard was outside in the small cage just watching. When it was done and he moved in, I really think he was happier. I built a double door into the screen front, and often times we'd leave one door open. A few times he ventured out and stayed, but most of the time, that cage was home. Sometimes when he did venture out, he'd choose to bask in the sunlight coming through our patio door.

About a year after this, a cat had been killed nearby while defending her litter of four day old kittens from a raccoon. A neighbor had seen the aftermath and collected the litter after their mother perished. Six kittens survived for a days or so until she took them to the SPCA. Two were adopted right there in the parking lot, and she was told the rest would be euthanized if they were brought inside. My first wife adopted one of the kittens, and when the little fuzzball was brought home she got to know our iguana. The first time I saw them together, she was watching him as he basked in the sunlight, and he was looking warily back at her. There was no doubt in my mind that I ought to step in, so I spoke to them both and took the kitten into the next room.

I found out the hard way that I'm not able to live with cats. We let the cat go after a few months, and when we did I started to wonder if I was the right caretaker for an iguana. I'd done the best I could, but I did some research. What I found made me feel so guilty that I was sick to my stomach for several hours. I found out about the diseases iguanas can catch and what they can do to the creatures. I found out that they aren't pets you can just put some food in front of and not worry about. Sure, we had rescued him from the daycare, but we weren't the caretakers he needed.

Pets do the darnedest things, though. From the time he was "introducing" himself to the cat to his first out of the cage car ride to the time we had company over while he was out and he climbed to the top of some of the lumber I'd purchased for his new cage, he always had something up his sleeve. Reptiles are no less ornery than your average cat or dog, in fact,m they are probably more so.

The story does have a happy ending, though. Read on...

Around that time, a new person had started at my job, and I found out he had a tortoise. One day I asked him if the tortoise could use a companion. We spoke quite a bit about reptiles as pets, and it sounded to me like he really did have a heart for taking care of them. I brought him over to meet my iguana. They seemed to hit it off right away. I spoke with my first wife about it and she wanted to be assured that he could provide the required care. I was certain he could, so a few days later he came and picked up our iguana, the cage, and all the materials we had purchased for the iguana over the last couple of years. Part of me was very sad to see them leave, but I knew that he'd be taken better care of.

Sometimes I wonder how well our iguana is doing. I wonder if he has been happy as he's grown older, and I wonder if he's adapted to having half a tail. I certainly hope he's been happy. I hope he became friends with that tortoise.

Each of us owes a death. One day our turn will come. Each pet that is owned also owes a death. Although it is the way of things, that fact does nothing at all to console the pet's companions when the time comes. I do not think that there is much that can console the companions. See, we're not "owners" of a pet, we're merely companions. Granted, we generally have the food, heat rocks, puzzles, or whatever, but it boils down to the fact we co habitate in the same home. If one companion passes on, it hurts all of them.

Do, however, know this: For each death that is paid by a companion, there is a chance that another animal has become friends or even companions with another creature. I don't say that strictly in the sense that a human has adopted or rescued an animal, since you could have, say, a couple cats that meet and become friends and they'd know each other far better than a human would know either of them.

I think that death can bring new opportunities for the surviving companions. It can create a need or a void to fill for those companions, and they will fill it. Gracie's death created a void that even I needed to fill, and it was filled by changing the life of one green iguana from that of misunderstanding and abuse to one of friendship and curiosity. I still do miss that tiny, shy, little ball of quills sometimes. I miss being able to go home and talk to an iguana about how my day went, and I even miss the week old fuzz ball, too. Out of all that, though, came a successful life for a companion that most humans would not know how to live with.