CAN WE KEEP HIM, MOM?
The Key West Keynoter, the newspaper of that tropical enclave, reported on a story in January this year that involved local iguanas. Iguanas are not native to the Florida Keys, but were introduced at some point as an exotic pet. Over time, the lizards have moved out-ofdoors, and now are relatively common throughout Key West. These lizards, which can grow up to six feet long, are truly tropical beings that originated in Central and South America. Iguanas are also cold-blooded, meaning that when the weather outside is cold, they, too, get cold.

Now, let's go back to January, 2008, and look at a few weather patterns. In early January, an Arctic air mass plunged south, dropping temperatures in northern Florida into the teens. And even our friends down in Key West weren't spared by this one, as temperatures there, too, dropped to well below normal.

So let's go back to the iguanas. Remember that these things are both common in Key West and coldblooded. So you're an average Key West resident, bebopping down the street one day and you see an iguana. Not a big deal, you see them all the time. But this one looks dead, the poor thing. And then it dawns on you. It's cold outside, and the iguana, being cold-blooded, is cold, too, so its body is slowing down to preserve warmth. But in addition to being well-informed about the biological functions that dictate an iguana's life, you're also a humanitarian, and you feel sorry for the poor cold iguana. After all, you've been cold before. It's no fun. So you do what any good-hearted humanitarian would do in similar circumstances.

This week's question is - how is Andrew not like an iguana?

You take him home and warm him up. In scientific circles, they call that a "huge mistake."

You see, kids, when you warm up a previously cold iguana, the iguana kind of snaps back to life. So that cold, docile, sleeping iguana you took home is now six feet of warm, active, hungry iguana that isn't entirely sure where he is or why he's there. Case in point, one well-meaning soul in Marathon, Florida, called an area veterinarian clinic to report that the five foot iguana she'd "rescued" from outside was now literally attacking her. So the moral of the story is leave the wild animals out in the wild, no matter how much sympathy you might have for them.

And you know what, boys and girls? The same thing is true for island anglers when it comes to the seal population.

Mommy, this segue followed me home and it's so cute and cuddly…Can we keep it, please?

Friends and neighbors, I

was walking out at Dionis

recently and saw a seal - a wee seal, at that - who was the epitome of adorable. He was cute, he was cuddly, he was adorable. He looked like all the photos you see, with the big eyes and whiskers. The whole shebang. But in all seriousness and without any of the B-movie horror flick connotations, that sweet exterior belies the fact that it's still a wild animal.

There's at least one of you out there who, last summer, thought the poor thing you'd found out at Great Point was actually injured, because it was just sitting there on the beach. So you wrapped it up in a towel and gently laid it in the back of your car. See above regarding the scientific definition of "huge mistake."

If you've been on a ferry ride recently, you might have noticed that the jetties are literally covered with harbor seals. Last year, there were reports of people actually feeding the seals with bluefish they'd caught. And while the seals are more than happy to have these handouts, the problem is that they don't quite grasp the concept of photo ops. You see, kids, when you feed those seals so you can take a picture, you're creating a learned behavior. Kind of like Pavlov with the dogs, only here the boat (or even just the angler) is the signal for the seals. There were numerous reports last year of seals literally taking fish off the lines of anglers at Great Point.

So don't try to save the seals, don't try to feed the seals. If you see a seal that looks sick or injured - just like the dolphins a couple of weeks ago - call the Marine Mammal Stranding Team. Don't take him home and don't feed him. And when we're all finally back out on the water, please don't feed the seals. You're doing yourself, the seals and your fellow anglers a huge disservice, no matter what your perceived reward is. If you're bound and determined to take care of a needy creature, I'm certainly available for hire. I don't take up that much space and I can usually survive on three or four meals a day.

And I swear I won't start chasing you around your house once I warm up.

Tight lines. I