Cat Gracie discovered a luckless lizard in the house yesterday and quickly let the poor critter know who was boss.
My attempts at rescuing the little guy were futile. I’d pick him up and Gracie would snatch the other end. I’d let go to prevent a tug of war, not wanting or needing to witness the decapitation of a reptile in my den.
But the lizard had a game plan:
Gracie scraped the lizard off her face and backed away with a look of disbelief, allowing me to scoop the lizard up and take it outside where it played dead for quite some time. Well, to be honest, it might not have been playing, but it’s no longer in the spot where I left it. Whether it left of its own volition and under its own power is a mystery. I’m going to choose to believe it went on to live a productive life.
Most days I dine alone at lunchtime. If the weather is nice I find a picnic table at Sweet Pea Cafè in Tallahassee and read while munching on one of their delightful vegan meals. Today the skies were slightly overcast, making it the perfect day to dine outside.
As I approached my favorite table a flash of motion caught my eye. A little lizard scurried away from me and I was quick to reassure him that I meant no harm. Now, this scenario has happened before. Every time, though, the lizard of the moment has totally ignored my words and gone skittering off to safer pastures. Today, though, this lizard remained for the entire meal.
I felt a bit like Disney’s Cinderella as the lizard kept me company. I wonder if it might be inclined to stitch a ball gown for me if were in need of one?
As I approached the driveway into Doright Manor today I clicked on the garage door opener. Rounding the turn leading into the garage I noted a large lizard scampering up the door, taking ill-advised refuge in one of the door’s folds.
I yelled at the lizard, “Look out!” and tried to stop the door, but wasn’t quick enough. Now the world has one less lizard. It’s a sad day indeed.
Today’s haul came mostly from my closet. Included are two pair of seldom worn shoes, along with my defective motorcycle boots (I lost the sole from the left boot on Saturday https://nananoyz5forme.com/2018/02/18/anyone-know-a-good-blacksmith/), a T-shirt, and a couple of bags, a book on tape, several cosmetic items, and three heart shaped paper doilies. And then there’s the lizard.
Here’s a closeup:
He’s dead. Apparently one of the cats brought him in and left him as a precious gift for me. I damned near stepped on him while carrying fresh sheets from the dryer to the bedroom. Nothing good would have come from that.
So Mr. Lizard, along with the piece of toilet paper I used to pick him up are being tossed today. Never a dull moment at Doright Manor.
We’ve been living at Doright Manor for four years now, and I believe this is the first winter we haven’t had a small lizard living in the mailbox. Every day I open the mailbox with anticipation and a bit of trepidation, and every day that there’s no lizard I feel a little let down, but also a bit relieved. Sometimes those guys scared the crap out of me.
The temperatures have been colder than usual this year, so I’m not sure if it’s simply too cold for the lizards or if they’ve moved to better digs. I can’t do a thing about the weather, but I can do something about the accommodations. Maybe I’ll redecorate the mailbox before next winter, put in a nice recliner and a rug.
Or perhaps I’ll knit a sweater and attach a note with care instructions.
It couldn’t hurt, right?
I do hope the lizards are somewhere safe and warm.
I was in bed, reading the latest adventures of Joe Ledger by the light of my Kindle Paper White when I heard the sound of scuffling cats. My feisty felines do not care for each other’s company, but when they disagree it’s with a great deal of hissing and noisy posturing. This sound was the one they make when in co-pursuit of another critter. Not a good thing to hear at bedtime.
My first inclination was to let them handle the situation, but then one of the cats made a sound of distress. I grabbed my trusty iPhone and activated the flashlight accessory, pointing it in the direction of the noise. Sure enough, there were Scout and Patches standing guard over a rather large lizard.
Cautiously I slipped out of bed and stood over the anxious cats and nervous reptile. I could see one white whisker poking out of its little mouth. The damned thing had attacked my baby!
Throwing caution to the night, I grabbed that lizard by the tail and tossed him out the back door where he landed on the porch with a satisfying “plunk.” That’ll teach him to mess with me and mine.
Of course now the cats are patrolling the bedroom with wide eyes and bushy tails. It might be awhile now before we can settle down to sleep. Maybe Joe Ledger and company can soothe my jangled nerves.
Or maybe not. At least it isn’t The King of Lizards!
I am not squeamish. Heck, anyone who has taught elementary schoolchildren knows that one either loses fear of all creepy crawly critters or one does a good job of faking bravery. Otherwise one’s desk will have lots of unwelcome visitors during the school year. I became quite adept at feigning affection for a variety of animals: “Oh, what a precious little tarantula! May I hold him?” “You have a pet boa constructor? Those are my favorite!”
Honestly I don’t mind most critters as long as I’m not caught unaware. It’s the ‘holy crap’ moments that get me. Yesterday, I had one of those ‘holy crap’ moments. The day had been about as wonderfully boring as a day can be. I’d spent the morning putting away Christmas decorations and attempting to locate all of my regular decor. I swear, one of these days I’m going to figure out a way of tagging decorative items so I can remember where things go.
I mailed a package to our oldest granddaughter in Texas, and then stopped by the big truck stop to get a soda. When I returned home I parked the car and then walked up the driveway to get our mail. Upon opening the mailbox not one, but two lizards ran out to greet me. Holy crap! I screamed, dropped the mail onto which one of the lizards was clinging and did the “ooh ooh ooh” dance–shaking my hands and stomping my feet just in case….well, just in case. Poor lizards–I think they had a holy crap moment, as well.