Has anyone else noticed the sudden population boom of iguanas in and around Whisper Creek? I’ve spotted at least five of the little buggers scurrying around lately. I’m pretty sure they’re geckos’ ugly cousins—the ones the family doesn’t talk about—and honestly, they’re a bit creepy if you ask me.
Iguanas, for those who slept through 7th‑grade science, are large herbivorous lizards from Central and South America. They can grow up to 6.5 feet long, which means some of them are basically small dinosaurs with better PR. They’re known for their spined backs, throat flaps, and long whip-like tails—perfect for looking intimidating while staring down a curious poodle.

A lot of Floridians adopted them as pets, only to discover that iguanas are “challenging” companions. And by “challenging,” I mean they chew on anything that doesn’t move, climb everything, and stare at you like you’re the weird one. Nothing is more scary than waking up in the middle of the night to find your pet iguana giving you a death stare 5 inches from your face. Sadly when they outgrow their welcome, people release them into the woods and swamps where they thrive like Whisper Creekers at the pancake breakfast.
Iguanas are mostly herbivores, happily munching leafy greens, flowers, and fruit. A mixed salad of collard, mustard, and dandelion greens sends them straight into reptile nirvana. Honestly, they eat healthier than most of us.

Did you know they’re cold‑blooded and can go into a state of torpor when temperatures drop? That’s a fancy way of saying they lose their grip and fall out of trees like scaly coconuts. So next time you stagger home on a chilly night after a few cocktails, just tell your spouse you’re not tipsy—you were struck on the head by a falling iguana. She might not believe you, but at least it’s original. Maybe rub your head a little to emphasize your point.
Now here’s the icky part. In Florida, if you catch a green iguana, you’re asked to “humanely euthanize” it. You can’t relocate, transport, or release them anywhere. Personally, I can’t imagine killing anything. I’m the guy who apologizes to the Roomba when I trip over it.
But if you do decide to dispatch the little guy, I have an excellent recipe for iguana stew. It pairs surprisingly well with dandelion wine—if you’re going for that “frontier gourmet” vibe.
And imagine the chaos if you try to give an iguana a ride somewhere and get pulled over. The officer leans in and says, “Sir, what’s that green crawly thing in your back seat?” Next thing you know, you’re getting a full cavity search while your iguana looks on in judgment.

So yes there are a lot of them creeping around Whisper Creek. Yes they are illegal to keep as a pet and yes they’re breeding champions and perhaps a little ugly. We need to figure out a way to get rid of them. Their only natural predators are large snakes, feral pigs and bobcats. Not sure here if we want to invite any of the above into the park. The cure may be worse than the disease.
By the way…popular iguana songs include:
• Iguana Love You Till the Day I Die
• Since I Got Fired, Iguana Look for a New Job
✍️ GREG STANGL



