A lizard walked into my house today. It’s one of those things that can only happen in the south. To me.
After a long morning of very productive writing (the mojo was with me), I let the dog out the front door, in the rain, to do her business. I was in a bit of a hurry, since I had to get to my day job for the afternoon. I’m able to work a couple of half-days every week to accommodate my writing, thanks to a supportive employer.
Anyway – Tully does her thing and I turn to go back into the house. As I open the front door, something fairly large scurries into the house in front of me. Now mind you, if it had been a spider, I would have gladly tossed a burning match inside and walked away. But no, it was a little lizard. We have a lot of them here in North Carolina. And by “a lot” I mean they’re freakin’ everywhere. They’re cute. But I do not want them inside my house.
Tully was relatively uninterested, but she was kind enough to nudge Lizzie into the dining room, where I could at least keep an eye on her.
But what to do? I’m not afraid of lizards, but I still don’t want to grab one with my bare hand, in large part because I was afraid I’d hurt it.
I looked toward the kitchen and saw the “bag drawer”. Ah-ha! I grabbed a large Ziploc bag and the chase began. Lizzie was not interested in exploring the inside of a plastic bag. But I got her into a corner, and she finally went along with the plan. Success!
Don’t worry – Lizzie was never in danger.I didn’t seal the bag even for a second. I snapped a quick picture and ushered her back outside, safe and sound. The funny thing was, little Lizzie seemed happier in the bag than in my house (we were both in agreement on that!). She didn’t want to leave it, even when I was trying to shake her out into the flower pot on the front porch.
But she eventually figured it out, and we both ended up right where we belonged. Perhaps a metaphor for a future book? Hmmm……