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Corky: Sharing an often requested tale with no embellishments

April 11, 2026

This happened about 20 years ago, and I reported it then and also in my latest book, “Not Done Yet.”

That said, I keep getting requests to tell the story again, both at dinner parties and here in my column. This has been going on for years. Seeing that it is the 20th anniversary of the first telling, I thought it was time to bring it back.

The most amazing part of this story is that it is absolutely true, with no embellishments.

It involves legendary Seal Beach lifeguard chief and former big-time surfer Tim Dorsey.

As a lot of you know, I spend most of my time in Mexico, near Zihuatanejo, where there is warm water and some great surf that is user-friendly. Tim is my neighbor there.

If any of this offends any of you animal lovers, I am sorry. That is not my intention, and I hope you will see the humor. It is so crazy that you just have to overlook anything that might be offensive and realize that this is just plain bizarre. But the tale is too long for one column, so I will be telling it in three parts so that I can present the whole sordid mess in its entirety.

Tim Dorsey was from Seal Beach and a member of the 1965 U.S. Surf Team that competed in the World Championship in Peru.

He’s called “The Iguana” because he has this hunk of skin hanging down from below his chin that gives him the appearance of an iguana. When he was still in Seal Beach, he was called “The Crab.” This is because he liked to surf a spot there called “Crabs,” and also has a crab tattoo.

When he moved to Mexico, he wanted a local nickname and so he asked the local jefe, Don Jesus, what would be a good one for him. Don Jesus looked at him and said, “Well, you look like an iguana.”

So, there it was.

His wife, known as “Sid,” also decided that she needed a local name to blend into the community, so she changed it to Marisol. She is Japanese. I only mention this because it has a major relevance to this story.

One thing that Marisol is, without a doubt, is an animal lover. As is The Iguana. As am I.

After living in a house trailer for a couple of years, their new house was finally finished, and they moved in. The Iguana and his wife and her six dogs. These were six of the nastiest, barkingest, bitingest dogs known to man.

Everyone in the area hated her dogs. They bit a whole bunch of people, and the word was that there was a “hit” out on them.

A couple of weeks into living in the new house, they woke up one morning to find one of the dogs was dead. Naturally, The Iguana’s wife thought the worst and insisted that they take the body to a veterinarian for an autopsy.

The Iguana tried to reason with her, mentioning that this was Mexico, after all, and probably they didn’t do autopsies on dead dogs. But her will prevailed, and off they went.

Upon hearing the request, the vet confirmed the fact that this was just not done on dogs in Mexico. But the wife insisted, so the vet agreed to do it for $500.

Twenty minutes later, he came out and declared, “It is a dog, and it’s dead. Natural causes. Five hundred dollars please.”

Unfortunately, the vet didn’t close the door, and it sort of blew open and revealed the head of the dog on a tray, which sent The Iguana’s wife running out of the office in hysteria.

Upon arriving back at their casa, The Iguana told his wife that he would dig a hole and bury the pup. But she screamed no he wouldn’t. Before the dog could be laid to rest, she had to send away to Japan for a Japanese burial gong. Then there would be a ceremony, and then, and only then, could he bury the dead dog.

So, The Iguana asked what she wanted him to do with the body until the gong arrived. She gave him a hard look and demanded, “Put it in the freezer.”

Stay tuned for part 2 coming up next.

Orange County Register

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Corky: Sharing an often requested tale with no embellishments

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