Well, it has finally happened. There was an alligator in my backyard.
Yes, after more than five years of living in Florida, we saw an alligator meandering around the green belt behind the houses on our street. He was a reptile on a mission, although a slow-moving one. Luckily, his mission seemed to be taking him in a direction away from us.
Let me back up and remind you of the little bit of heaven we call home. When I bought my house in this quiet little age-restricted community, the realtor went into raptures about the beautiful location and natural view. Truthfully, that location and view were big selling points for this particular house. I look out my sliding glass door and huge windows into a beautiful, peaceful greenbelt area. It is a conservation zone. Developers will not be constructing any new houses in that area. It is quiet. It is serene.
What I didn’t realize until several years after I purchased the property is that the “greenbelt” is actually a wetland. It was at least a year after I moved in that I realized there was WATER down the grassy, forested slope from us. The epiphany that there was a body of water about 20 feet from my house dismayed me for a little while. People say that, if there is a glass of water anywhere in the state of Florida, there will be an alligator trying to get into it.
When my mother moved to Florida, she insisted that I find her a home that was not on the water because she did not want to share her property with the alligators. I thought she was being a little unreasonable because we live in a place called LAKE County. There are over 1000 lakes in Lake County, which cover over 200 square miles of water. Finding a place to live far away from the water is sort of geographically impossible. I did find her a place that didn’t back up directly on water, so that was a win in my book. I didn’t take the alligator thing very seriously, though. All in all, my #1 strategy for living in Florida is to try not to think about alligators.
We had a guy do some work on the soffits in our house. This was after the great snake chase ( http://www.terrilabonte.com/2016/07/the-great-snake-chase/) and I was kind of paranoid about wild things entering my home. I was thinking about small wild things like snakes and squirrels. Obviously, an alligator could not get into my house through the soffits. Or could it? The soffit guy mentioned that he heard a big bull alligator bellowing while he was on the ladder screening up our gaps. I, for no reason other than abject denial, decided it must be bullfrogs he was hearing. I validated this opinion based on Google, which told me that mating season for alligators was over, and on some random wildlife page that said an alligator sounds like a motorcycle starting. The noise in the backyard did not sound like a motorcycle. More like the foghorn on the Titanic. Return to strategy #1 for living in Florida…. Try not to think about alligators.
As I lived in Florida longer, I started to get a little more comfortable. The only place I ever saw an alligator in the wild was on the grounds of the Kennedy Space Center, of all places. It was becoming easier to employ strategy #1 for living in Florida. Still, I had friends who kept insisting that alligators are commonplace in Florida communities. They recounted their alligator sightings on golf courses and local ponds. One friend seems to spend a lot of her time in the passenger side of a car keeping her eyes peeled firmly on the surface of any body of water, fascinated by the prospect that she might see an alligator. Sometimes, she does. Me? Strategy #1 for living in Florida… Try not to think about alligators.
Once I got on Facebook, I saw photos of alligators wandering in my subdivision. At first, I thought some of the folks who posted these pictures might be trying to pull my alligator-ignoring leg. Then, there was a video of a whole batch of my neighbors herding a small alligator from one pond to another. Apparently, he was too young to challenge the male alpha-alligator for breeding rights and too old to be tolerated as a juvenile by said alpha-alligator. Papa Gator apparently ran him out of the breeding pond. Junior was looking for new digs, aiding by my neighbors.
Despite my strategy #1 for living in Florida.. Try not to think about alligators…. I think I always knew, deep down, that there were alligators out there. Because I live on the wetlands (which looks suspiciously like an everglade environment to me), I really did believe that someday I would see an alligator in my backyard. The only thing that really surprised me was that it took as long as it did. Well, one more thing really surprised me. This guy was huge! I figured the day would come when I’d see an alligator, but I thought it would be one of those 3-5-foot models. Oh no, this guy was super-sized. He had to be at least eight feet long.
Max was standing out in the Florida room, looking out our windows. He called to me and asked if I could identify a large dense-looking dark patch of matter about 25 yards from our back door. We thought it might be a fallen tree or large turtle (strategy #1 for living in Florida… try not to think about alligators.) I almost had him convinced it was a log. Then, the log lifted its head, opened its mouth, and meandered a few feet up the slope towards the house next to us. Ghastly Gussie the Gator was on the move. We watched, pretty aghast ourselves, as he ambulated a few feet north, stopped to rest for a few moments, then progressed a few more feet before pausing again. He continued in this manner for some time.
I called the phone number Google told me to call for “nuisance” alligators. I wasn’t sure Ghastly Gussie was really a nuisance, to be fair. Sure, I saw him as being in my backyard. I’m certain the alligator thought I was in his backyard. He wasn’t really threatening anyone, although I was certainly relieved that he was “non-threatening” further away from me as time passed. My Google research advised me that the alligator wranglers would likely not “relocate” Ghastly Gussie. At least, they wouldn’t relocate him alive. Apparently, alligators are very territorial and will keep returning to “their” place repeatedly, despite human attempts to change their venues. Still, Gussie was a pretty big guy and I thought, given that he seemed to be getting closer to peoples’ back doors as he headed north along the water line, there might be some danger to people and pets. Anyway, when I finally called the alligator wranglers to get their advice, I only reached voice mail. The voice mail gave me another phone number to call if there was an immediate threat. The message listed the criteria for declaring an alligator an immediate threat. Some of the criteria were finding an alligator in your garage, finding an alligator under your car, and finding an alligator attached to your leg. None of the criteria for immediate threat applied, so I left a message. I also posted a picture and a warning on our neighborhood Facebook page so people could exercise a little extraordinary care.
Eventually, Gussie disappeared from my view. I started trying to re-engage with my strategy #1 for living in Florida… Try not to think about alligators. It was a little harder to force my brain into that frame than usual. However, the experience wasn’t all bad. At least Ghastly Gussie practiced proper social distancing!
What is the strangest thing you’ve ever seen in your backyard? Please share your perspective by leaving a comment. In the alternative, you can email me at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Have a wild and un-woolly day! But stay safe!