This is an automatic translation of the post originally written in Spanish. Apologies for the delay. I have been very busy cleaning monkey shit from my clothes…but that is another story.
The other day I was taking care of the pelican (who couldn’t, didn’t know, didn’t want to fly)… when suddenly some leaves began to fall. First a few, then a few more … a twig …
A twig? BBbbbbbbuuuut if it is a splendid sun and no wind…
Through this corner of the world, one doesn’t have to be very savvy to suspect that something is happening up there, in the treetop when the windless leaves fall. So, slowly and without taking my eyes off the pelican – who had already thrown himself once in the direction of the crocodile cage – I began to look up the tree trying to locate the source of the problem.
It didn’t take me long. About 15 meters above the ground, I see a giant iguana hanging… held only by the teeth of a paltry little leaf. Shit, I thought. The iguana is going to fall on our heads. I imagined the scene:
1) Iguana falls on top of the pelican
2) Iguana strips the pelican’s neck
3) Iguana dies in the fall and
4) Pelican, the palm.
We are screwed up.
At that moment, and I suppose attracted by my panicky face, Frank and one of the center managers had just arrived. Watch out! I yelled at them, an equal is about to fall… ..chiiiiiiiuuuuuuuunnnnnnnnnnnn, CLOC. CHOF.
He didn’t even give me time to finish the sentence. The poor little leaf could not stand any longer the weight of the iguana and the iguana had plunged into free fall, had hit one of the sticks on which the pelican was sitting (who had not even flinched) and was lying motionless on the ground, but with the eyes open. Of course, totally heeled to the right.
What do we do? I ask the manager. We take her to the clinic? After all, we are a wildlife rescue center, right? Naahhhh the manager tells me. Iguanas fall out of trees all the time, get a little groggy, and then just go away like nothing.
To all this, the iguana still did not move, heeled to the right and with one eye closed.
– I don’t know, I insist, the fact is that he hit one of the sticks in the side when he fell and something may have broken. Doesn’t it seem to you that her leg is dangling? And what is totally aside?
We were discussing the best strategy to follow, while the iguana still did not move and looked at us in astonishment with one eye.
In this, the other manager arrives, attracted by the crowd of people around the pelican – iguana, and after hearing our two theories (theory one, which is like a rose but stunned – my manager’s and theory two that has all broken ribs and is dying – mine), decides that better to heal in health and take her to the clinic.
The next day, I went to the clinic to ask how my patient was doing.
- The Iguana? The vet asks me. The one that came in yesterday?
- Yes, yes, I say. The one that fell from the tree. Had something broken? I ask.
- No way! It was like a rose. I was just a little stunned from the blow. We released her last night.
Moral: In this country, monkeys are made of chocolate … and iguanas… of wrought iron.