Farley here.

My title was a little dramatic, but I got scared by a big old iguana. I think he was a grandpa protecting his gang.

Let me set the scene.

I’m in the dinghy leaning my head out into the wind, my paws are getting wet, and I’m excited about getting to shore.

I can see it, smell it, almost feel the sand on my feet when . . .

“Oh, there’s a sign posted,” Kristina says. “Maybe the island is private.”

My heart sinks.

“Let’s land and go read it,” Matt says.

Yay. As soon as the bottom of the dinghy hits the shoreline, I jump over Kristina’s legs and get to shore (just in case they decide we’re not going).

Now, I’ve never seen an iguana before and this one was pretty big.

As Kristina read the sign, I heard her say, “No pets allowed. We better go.”

Too bad. I’m already out of reach. I’m going to have some fun.

The iguana charges me and tries to bite my nose. What’s up with that? Lucky for me, I am stellar quick and got out of the way. But does that stop me from chasing the iguana into the bushes. Nope. I’m off.

I can hear Kristina and Matt yelling for me, but my brain has turned off. I swear I’m not ignoring them, but I’m too excited to listen.

I stop abruptly in my tracks. “Wait.” I hear the dinghy engine start then fade away. “They’re leaving me?”

I bolt to the beach, my heart is pounding. “Don’t leave me,” I bark.

Too late, I realize it’s a trick. Kristina is in the dinghy, but where is Matt? I turn, and there he is standing behind me, leash in hand. I run to the left, then the right, but darn, he gets me. On goes my leash and Kristina comes back for us.

I should have known they wouldn’t leave me. I watch longingly as we drive away. I can see Grandpa iguana laughing at me.

Woof Woof.

Thanks for reading.