At long last.
The conclusion to the great saurian saga of 2013.
If you recall, I was relating my adventures in pursuit of a solution to an enormous lizard problem. Enormity is a relative concept—relative, basically, to your level of cowardice in the face of non-humanoid beings. Mine, historically, has been high, but I am striving to overcome that, and I welcomed this opportunity for growth. (Welcome may be too strong a word. I…accepted…it.)
When we left our story, the lizard was on the windowsill, the gardening gloves were in the drawer and Elaine was in an unusual state of courage and determination.
Which lasted about two minutes—or the total amount of time it took for me to get the gloves, put them on, and reach for the lizard.
The lizard, being a lizard, was not one to sit like patience on a monument* (Flapdoodle!) while rescue was effected. At the first touch of a gloved finger, it leapt!
Leapin’ Lizards!
Every girl’s dream start to a day.
Now, bear in mind, when I say “leapt” that you must consider the source. I have a level of…discomfort…with rodents and reptiles (and spiders) that tends to lend connotations of warp speed to their movements and Japanese horror movie magic to their size as I relate my adventures.
This poor little thing “leapt” all of two inches. There was nowhere, after all, to go. On the one side, the window. On another, the window frame. On the other two sides, my advancing hand.
A little more ruthless effort, and I’d have had him.
Incipient bravery only takes you so far, however.
I couldn’t quite bring myself to grab. (Who wants to end up with a tail in her hand and half an escaped lizard wandering the halls?)
We retreated to our respective corners. Or, the lizard did, anyway, skulking in the corner of the sill, window, and wall. I took a step back to catch my breath.
The prospect was dim.
Failure loomed.
Was I going to have to…oh, the shame…wake up the MotH?*
Just when that horrible prospect seemed inevitable, victory was snatched from the jaws of defeat!
The lizard was sitting on the window sill!
Window sill.
Window.
Window!
I am thankful this Thursday that my brain woke up to the realization that windows are designed to be opened, that these particular windows do not have screens, that I moved slowly enough not to spook the lizard into further flight, and that the lizard was brave enough to wait for me to open the window and smart enough to get the hell out while the going was good.
So, okay.
It wasn’t my finest moment.
On the other hand, the MotH slept on, the house is lizard-less, and the lizard roams free in its natural habitat.
Things could be worse.
Next time…well, I’ve found some things we’ll discuss tomorrow to deal with the next time.
* Shakespeare, Twelfth Night, Act II, sc 4
** MotH=Man of the House
