Dogzilla versus Reptilion

SHERWOOD KIRALY

I don’t know how you feel about the lizards outside your door. Maybe

you like them. Some people do. Good-hearted people. Stout-hearted

people.

This spring I’ve been watching our home lizards take the sun on

our cement backyard wall. There are more every year. They seem to be

getting bigger.

Visitors to this space may recall my backyard as the scene of an

encounter two years ago between me and a rat who had half a plastic

Easter egg stuck on its head. None of our lizards wear anything, but

they don’t have to; they can rattle me au naturel.

Lizards have flexible skulls and movable lower eyelids. They range

in size from one inch to 10 feet. There are 3,700 species. And their

skin is all, it’s all -- well, it’s a little like mine, actually;

I’ve been noticing these arm wrinkles lately.

Also, they occasionally surprise you, as one did the other morning

when I got out of bed.

He was standing on the carpet, between the bed and the dresser. He

wasn’t large, but he was big enough to be visible and that’s too big

for me.

Booker, our Welsh springer spaniel, came in to say hi and I

pointed the lizard out to him. Booker always patrols for lizards

outside, but he never catches them. He now missed again, as this one

escaped under the dresser.

Patti Jo and I discussed the situation. Our marriage has endured

because we agree on the big issues, and there was no way either of us

would sleep in the bedroom again as long as that lizard was under

there. I felt it was up to me to do something. I hate when that

happens.

I knew if it ran across my bare feet I’d go through the ceiling,

so I put on my sneakers. Then I put on my work gloves, but I still

wasn’t happy.

Booker wanted another chance. I lifted one end of the dresser and

he had it! -- and dropped it. It went under Patti Jo’s bedside table.

At least now it was going under lighter furniture.

When I lifted the table, Booker pounced again. “He’s got it!” said

Patti Jo, and took off for the back door, calling, “Outside, Booker!”

Now, I grew up on “Lassie” and she’d go get help when gramps fell

down the well, but she never took a wriggling reptile out of the

bedroom and all the way out back before putting it down. The lizard

was last seen going under the basketball hoop base, Patti Jo did a

victory dance around the patio, and Booker now gets the gourmet

treats. He saved the day in just three takes and I’ll bet it took

Lassie longer.