By Lalinda De La Fuente

I wonder who the first was. I can picture it now, a man (or maybe a woman), standing in a pet store staring at a large green lizard. Their foliage colored skin and black ringed tail make iguanas a sight. There’s something dinosaur about them too, with spike like scales protruding from their back and chin. They seem like laid back lizards, always spotted chilling in a tree or basking in the sun. Yet their claws and rough appearance show that they could potentially mean business. They're an interesting yet odd creature and if it wasn't for the fact I know I could not properly take care of one, I would want one too.

But that person’s rash decision to walk out of that pet store with that lizard proved to be a growing trend of people who purchase pets and do not know what it really takes. So a week, a month or maybe even a year later, that person decided that iguana parenting was not for them and made the disastrous decision to just set it free.

Native to the Caribbean, Central and South America, these lizards are now calling South Florida their surrogate home. They live in the Everglades. They live behind people’s houses. They sit in your trees. They are even sighted splashing around in the Intercostal waterways of South Florida. And apparently now they are crossing the Florida Turnpike at 4 o’clock in the afternoon.

Driving back from West Palm Beach I encountered a distressing situation (at least it was to me). Off in the distance there was a bunch of dark somethings in the middle of the road. I thought at first they were shards from blown tires but as a got closer I noticed that these things were moving. I immediately freaked out.

Whatever they were, they were alive and having had a clean record when it comes to road kill, I wasn’t about to start now. Instinctively I hit my brakes but shortly realized that I could not come to a complete halt on an expressway where everyone was doing at least 60 mph. I would have to pull some slick maneuvering.

That‘s when I realized that they were iguanas, and about a dozen at that, trying to cross a massive highway. I remember swerving to the right in an attempt to avoid hitting two large iguanas directly in my path. As I strategically drove right in between them I think I may have let out a shriek. I did not want to end the day with an iguana killing now under my belt.

Just as a cleared the gang of iguanas, I looked into my rearview mirror and much to my delight, realized I had not hit any of the verdent lizards. I was happy, very happy. But as I saw more cars fly up behind me, the dim reality dawned on me: it’s likely that I merely prolonged their lives for another 30 seconds.

There were iguanas already dead around me.

We live in a disposable society. We throw everything that we possibly can away. We don’t like it, we don’t want it, we get tired of it and then we throw it away. An old pair of shoes though does not breathe. An iguana does.

And now iguanas are crossing the Florida Turnpike at 4 o’clock in the afternoon.