Home Sweet Zoo
My dog, Holly, whom I have written about quite a few times in this blog, is notorious for bringing a variety of flotsum and jetsum into the house. Leaves, flowers, paper scraps...sticks being her favorite as those are oh-so-satisfying upon which to chew. And leave tiny, itsy bitsy pieces of stick all over my carpets. But better than my socks or the earphones for my iPhone...
But I digress.
The other morning, she brought in a stick which I wrestled from her before it got gnawed upon. Later in the day, I see yet another stick on the rug. Damn dog.
As I am reaching down to pick it up, I notice....
It is not a stick.
It is a quite large alligator lizard (probably brought inside by Cougar, my cat).
See? It totally blends in with the log. Thus the stick mistake on my part.
OMG. How glad I am that I didn't touch that thing!!?? And it should be plenty glad as well.
Case in point:
When I was a teenager, I discovered a lizard living in a potted plant on my nightstand. I'd wake up with it's beady reptilian eyes glaring at me.
AAAAAHHHH! I don't know how many times that thing scared the cr@p out of me.
One day I saw it sitting on my windowsill. I figured I would get a trashcan, put it under the sill and use a broom to sweep the little bugger into and dump, uh, I mean release, him outside.
Best laid plans....
So I got all of my 'gear' and was about to proceed with Operation Lizard Removal when the lizard decided to start running RIGHT AT ME.
I freaked out and smacked it.
With the stick end of the broom.
Needless to say, it didn't survive.
Sorry little lizard.
To this day, I feel really, really bad about killing the poor thing. (So anyone with P.E.T.A., please no hate mail, okay?)
Back to present day...
I was off to find something in which to trap Senor Gecko when the dog found the lizard. She chased him under our couch.
Which is a huge sectional. No way anyone is picking it up to look underneath.
I'm a little concerned that I might look up from watching TV and see those beady eyes staring at me:
He is pretty mad at me for killing his mom's dad's grandma's brother's son's cousin all those years ago. Can't say as I blame him, really.
Long story short, the lizard snuck its way out into the kitchen and was rescued from harm by my husband.
No fatal broomstick indentations this time around.
You are one lucky suckah, Mr. Alligator Lizard.
If you know what's good for you, don't come back inside when I'm sweeping.