One of my good girlfriends lived in a very long ranch house. People pretty much came and went as desired as if they lived there. That was life at her house - everyone was family. Because the house was so long, she hung a bell onto the kitchen door so she could hear if anyone had arrived.
Now my friend also loved animals. She raised thoroughbred horses for a living and worked at the local vet as an animal health technician. Needless to say, there was always some new strange critter in her house. You learned to never lift the lid on a coffee can as there might be baby snakes inside. At one point, she had a blind three-legged dog, a pregnant cat that someone had dumped off in the dark, 2 Great Danes, chickens, a pig named Polly (that was actually a male - the kids used to play ring-toss with its tusks), I don't know how many cockatiels, love birds and parakeets, and an iguana.
Now I hate reptiles. I mean I have had nightmares involving reptiles. Prehistoric-looking things with little beady black eyes that have no soul. So I always took a wide berth around the iguana. Unfortunately, the kids would take the iguana out of its tank and let it run around the house. It had become accustomed to the sound of the bell on the kitchen door and had developed a bizarre habit of greeting anyone who entered by jumping on their foot and doing lizard push-ups. It was his way of saying 'hi!'. This strange habit enabled me to tolerate the thing enough to where I could actually be in the same room with it without freaking out.
One day as my friend and I were sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes and yapping, a mutual friend arrived. Now she was on the rotund side, and even though she was a large woman, she was very feminine with her gestures and expressions. It made her unique that way. Anyway, she opened the door and the bell rang. And from somewhere deep within the house, the iguana came running and landed on her foot to welcome her.
At that point she began to scream and hyperventilate. This just made me and my friend laugh. We were kinda sick that way. The more she screamed, the more the lizard did his push-ups and the more we laughed. She got her wits about her enough to run down the hall and into the bathroom - with the lizard running after her.
I'm laughing so hard that I started to choke. We both get up and follow the parade into the bathroom where we find our friend standing in the bathtub - still screaming. Then I noticed two things: she had peed herself and the lizard was outside of the bathtub facing her, still doing his push-ups.
At this point, my friend and I completely lose it. I slide down the wall and can't breathe. My friend had enough functionality left about her that she was able to pick up the iguana and put him in his tank.
We spent the next hour or so with our friend being totally irked with both of us and yelled every choice word she could come up with multiple times. Because she was usually so feminine, it kept the laughter going. She hated us for at least a week after that. I don't think we ever got her to laugh about that adventure.
And that is the Iguana story.
