Thu 4 Oct 2012
It was Patchy done brought this alligator lizard inside. Out of the corner of my eye I spied her playing with it under a dining room chair, to which I sounded the “Ahhhhhck!” which is the universal cat distress call for “Stop it and drop it!”
And she did.
The lizard, though freshly minus its tail, was ultra mobile and scurried under the serving table. Moving rapidly into the kitchen I managed to stop it at the last moment from running under the pantry by covering it with a large wooden salad bowl. Sliding a piece of cardboard between the bowl and the floor I turned it upright and sure enough there was the lizard looking none to pleased.
So we recessed outside to the Lizard Relaxation & Rehabilitation Center — otherwise known as Buster the tortoise’s hutch — and I snapped the above photograph of it relaxing and rehabbing.
The next time I checked on it, it had already checked out. Not as in “died.” As in “exited.”


reminds me of the time an Aussie we were caring for was staring intently at a box on the floor. Would…not…move, not even for food. Got a shovel and a can of compressed air and kicked the box out of the way. Sure enough, mini-mouse under the box. Aussie went lunging, I went whacking. Mouse ran. I bumped it out from behind something else and ended up squishing it with a toolbox it ran behind while trying to get it out the door. Aussie was none too pleased with me for killing her “toy”.