 Bailey's Story | |
| Shortly before Christmas of 1995, my iguana Bert was stolen from our yard (he free-roamed - and it was perfectly safe, he was SO well trained, until a bunch of new kids moved into the neighborhood... but about Bert later)... Anyway, when he hadn't turned up after nearly four weeks, I started looking at the baby igs at our local PetSmart whenever I went in for cat, dog, or fish pond supplies. All the little babies were so cute, but very, very skittish... Except one little fella with a broken thumb-toe on his back foot (it crosses over the other toe, like he's always hoping for good luck - and we have to be very careful about trimming the nail on that toe or it will grow into the skin between the next two toes!). |
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Anyway, this little broken-toed iggy was the only one in the cage who didn't run away when a human approached the glass. I'd put my finger up and wiggle it at him, and he would puff up, drop his little dewlap, bobbing his head and thrashing his tail defiantly. |
| After a couple of weeks of visiting the little fella, and when I was certain in my heart that I would never see Burt again, I finally broke down and bought him. It was Christmas, as I said, and "It's A Wonderful Life" was just ending when I came in the front door and introduced the new member of the family to my roommates and friends. We named him Bailey after George Bailey in the film. Because of the unique work schedules in our household, Bailey was able to spend the first few months in his new home without ever being left alone or put in a cage. He would either sleep in a large mayonnaise jar or on a bookshelf over the couch. And when he wasn't sleeping, he was getting almost constant attention from humans. Unfortunately, things didn't remain that way long... and Bailey ran into a terrible streak of bad luck (which either proves that always having your fingers crossed doesn't work, or iguana toes don't count as fingers...). |
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When he weighed one gram less than an ounce, he was attacked by a MUCH larger iguana while I was away one weekend. When I came home I found him running loose in my room, covered with blood and wild eyed. I couldn't get near him. Whenever I approached him, he sped off in a wild panic - bashing himself into things and thrashing all about. I knew he was hurt, and scared to death he would hurt himself more. It took me all night to get him calm enough to let me throw a towel over him... and the close up look at his wounds made my heart sink. |
| His tail had been bitten half through RIGHT AT THE HIPS! There was hole I could have put my thumb into missing from him, and numerous other cuts, punctures, and smaller missing chunks. It was pre-dawn, and I didn't know what to do. I didn't think he could possibly survive, and I didn't want him to suffer.
I e-mailed Adam Britton in England and asked him for advice. He said to take the little guy to the vet first thing in the morning, and that's exactly what I did. Thank god, too, for the diet advice I had gotten from Adam, and Melissa Kaplan, about feeding igs. The vet said that if Bailey hadn't been so healthy and strong to begin with, he never would have made it. As it was, she gave him a 50-50 chance ... if he made it the next two or three days without getting an infection. |
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 | The hole had to be cleaned and medicated several times a day, a process which was nearly as traumatic for me as it was for little Bailey. He would look at me with such sad eyes while I flushed the old medication out and tried to carefully pack the new medication in. It was touch-and-go for several weeks, and the hardest part was getting him to eat and drink properly to ensure his overall health. But he made it, and he's got some wonderful scars to show off to the other alpha males! Not long after his wounds had healed from that incident, we were house-sitting for my mother and one of her cats got into the guest room where Bailey was. I heard a strange noise, and when I went into the room (the door was closed... still not sure how that cat got in there) I saw Nicki tossing something up into the air... catching it in his mouth by it's little green tail and tossing it again. I yelled, Nicki ran, and Bailey landed in my hand. About an inch of his tail had been broken off, and the tail that remained looked like a pin cushion! |
| Again to the vet... minor injuries... an antibiotic shot and some ointment. Sigh.
Then life seemed to get better for Bailey ... for a while. When Bailey was about three years old, my roommate decided to buy a female ig to see if we could get them to mate. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but Bailey had become very shy of other iguanas (after what Jake did to him, who could blame him?) and didn't take very well to Kijou, his intended girlfriend. |
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Well, about a year-and-a-half after they'd been together, Kijou came into season and headed straight for Bailey. He was shy. He was confused. He didn't know what to do. After about a month of aborted courtship dances (Bailey would lose interest half-way through and just wander off!), it finally looked like Bailey had figured things out. Kijou was giving him that "come hither" look, and instead of running away he actually approached her.
The entire household watched in amazement (quietly, and from a distance, so as not to disturb the young couple). Bailey climbed halfway up her back, took her neck in his mouth, wrapped his tail under hers.... and... and... just sat there. And sat there.  Come on, Bailey! we all whispered eagerly, visions of cute little baby iguanas dancing in our heads. After about three minutes in this pose, Bailey let out a great, heaving sigh, turned, and walked away - convinced, no doubt, that his job was done. Kijou, on the other hand, knew better... her head snapped around, she blinked once and then struck at Bailey's retreating tail. You can guess the rest, right? She didn't draw blood, but several weeks later the place where she had bit him looked like someone had stuck a marble inside his tail. Off to the vet once again. X-rays showed that the tail had been split in two, part of it was regrowing and part of it was just laying there ... so that the bone looked like a Y. The vet said let it go... and we did... until the bubble broke and the non-growing part of the bone became exposed. Back to the vet. This time it was a group thing, several of the doctors consulted back and forth over what to do. In the end, after two days of them debating, it was decided that the tail had to amputated above the Y so that it would grow back in a normal fashion without necrotic bone fragments. And the long, grasping toe on his right rear leg was lost when he got a piece of carpet lint wrapped around it and no one noticed it until the toe had started to fall off at the second joint. Poor guy. |