by Erin Hudson
When I was a young girl growing up in Los Angeles, my dad would take my brother and me to the creek in Soledad Canyon a few miles north on the weekends to catch fish, frogs, and anything else we could find to put in our tanks at home. I remember having five large fish tanks in our home with all kinds of assorted fish, frogs, and salamanders. We even had crawfish. Among my favorites were tadpoles. I loved watching the awesome transformation into frogs. To this day I am still fascinated by the whole metamorphosis and look for tadpoles any time I am near a creek.
As I got older I ventured into a new challenge: catching lizards. Oh the excitement of catching the whole lizard and not just the tail! Although even a tail was some achievement for a seven-year-old. I remember I would walk really slowly, watching the ground in front of me, waiting to see some kind of movement right before my eyes, anticipating possibly seeing something out of the corner of my eye. I can still feel the adrenalin rush as a "leaf" would move--I had a gift of recognizing camouflage. As soon as I would spot a lizard I knew I had to take it slow. Lizards are quick, you know. If I wanted the whole lizard I had to take my time. I would crouch down, hold my breath, and plan my attack. It became an art, and I was good! I made it my goal to catch one wherever we went. Why spend money on a chameleon when someone as good as me could catch lizards of all shapes, colors, and sizes? My dad finally put his foot down when I spotted a beautiful snake colored with red and yellow. So I stuck to lizards. They were more of a challenge anyway.
I came up with all kinds of contraptions for transportation and little homes. I loved my lizards. I slept with them, watched T.V., ate, and even rode my bike with them. They were my friends. As I got older the fascination of catching them fizzled, but the love for them never did. When I was nineteen I bought a 7 month old iguana.
Puba is his name. He came with a full length tail! I would take him everywhere with me. If I was going to someone's house for a while I just put him in their bath tub. I got a lot of looks when I would take him out into public with his leash on. Most people were fascinated by him and wanted to touch him. They would ask questions like, "What do you feed him?" Vegetables. "How long can he live?" About 25 years. "How big can he get?" About six feet. And the funniest question of all: "Is he slimy?" No! He is a lizard, not a snail.
When I was 23 years old I packed Puba up and moved to Tennessee. The two-day drive was great. My brother-in-law and I drove all day and all night with Puba in the front cab of the U-Haul. At night Puba would sleep on the floorboarda, and while the sun was out he followed it all around the cab of the truck. Even if that meant sitting on my brother-in-law's head while he drove.
When I arrived in the country people were more leery of Puba. The questions were the same but the reaction was not. They did not want to touch him. They did not want any proof that he was not slimy. They just wanted to know, Why?
Who knows why? Maybe because I was a tomboy growing up. Maybe because dogs and cats were such a common pet. Or maybe because I realized very young that lizards could be fun and funny. I remember leaving the back glass sliding door open and coming home to find Puba hanging a foot from the top of the screen door. Or walking into the kitchen to find him eating out of the dog's food. (Yes I have a dog too now). Or casually walking into my bedroom to find him staring out of the window, sitting next to my dog. Puba and I have had a great nine years together. He has brought much love, and joy and tons of laughter into my life. I hope he can say the same about me.
Erin Hudson
