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12:38am

Rest in peace, Gnarlita

Featuring:

Gnarla

Yaz

Everyone,
Thank you so much for your good wishes. This seems like a horrid deja vu, it instantly puts me in mind of my iguana Ziebe's passing 6 yrs ago.

Anyhow, my best little iggie girl in the world, Gnarla Jean Tuvolt, passed away about an hour ago. She seemed to be perking up at home--the eating & pooping were a good sign!--which gave me hope she might overcome whatever had plagued her. (I haven't received the histopathology report yet, but it's a pretty good bet it's some sort of cancerous tumor.) I am very thankful I was home today w/ her, however.

She ate very little this morning, even though I prepared a heaping plate of goodies, so I wound up syringe-feeding her a yummy slurry of collards, banana, apple, orange, bread, alfalfa & zucchini. Mmmm! She seemed quite restless in her & Yaz's cage, and every time I looked up, I'd have to rush over to prevent her from trying to dive down to a different level or climb up a branch. Therefore, I kept placing her back in the flat-floored solo cage til she'd object, Yazzy would pine, and then it was back to the original cage. (No wonder I didn't get much room cleaning done today)

"I'm glad you're feeling so energetic," I'd say, during the moves, "but, really, girl, you're supposed to be RESTING."

Around 8 pm tonight, I caught her trying to do another dive in Yaz's cage, and when I grabbed her, she did a strong little "alligator roll" to the left w/ such force that I was startled. I lay her on a perch in the cage and she persisted in digging at the corners. "Honey, RELAX," I said, picking her up and cradling her. She immediately began climbing up my chest and I noticed w/ alarm that she felt quite limp and that her skin appeared brown. I put her back on the high perch where she followed orders to a T, spreading out her long, frighteningly skinny body and dangling her right arm & leg over the perch ledge, looking for all the world like a rubber toy. This was very much unlike my baby. "C'mon," I'd say, jostling her, but this time she wasn't buying it. Her eyes remained half closed and all the prodding in the world wouldn't make her change expression. I frantically ran to the kitchen & got a syringe of warm water/Karo syrup (the kitten cure, but why wouldn't a blast of glucose work on an iguana?) but when I pried open her mouth, there was little give, and I noticed the ropes of saliva like sudden stalactites. Her tongue was gray, but it had been like that for months. I kept rubbing her bony sides & shaking her, hoping it was a momentary seizure, but inside, I knew it was too late. Her eyes seemed to have gotten remarkably sunken during the last hour or so and she was past the point of no return.

I couldn't cry until I called up my friend in Massachusetts, and then I could barely get the words out, I was sobbing so hard.

SHE HAS COME SO FAR, from being rescued in near-death condition to being a happy, healthy lizard who got a garden of fresh collards & mustards every summer, a spacious enclosure, a big buddy (Yaz), time out every day, soaky baths every night, and the occasional short ride on the dashboard of my car in sunny weather, which she LOVED.

I have to sleep knowing that she had an amazing veterinarian doing his best for her, and a mama who loved her so, enjoyed watching her grow and take pleasure in things like CONSTANT MOVEMENT (she was reportedly living in a small box in a house w/ no electricity back in '04--I did not for a minute begrudge her the need to exercise!) and folks who admired her proud physique & verdant shade.

Gnarla, I hope you enjoyed the time with me, because I certainly enjoyed the time with YOU. Rest in peace, sweetheart.