The problem is……I’m scared to death of them. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone being bit by a lizard or a frog, but I just don’t want them to touch me. It’s not that I think they will hurt me….it’s that I know I will hurt myself, trying to get out of their way.
I remember once when we first moved to St. Simons Island, I was keeping Ryan during the day so Kate could work, and both Ryan and I were upstairs cleaning and I needed to go back downstairs for something. I scooped Ryan up in my arms and we headed down the steps……to be met by a LIZARD standing on the 3rd step from the top! He stopped me dead in my tracks and I fell backwards onto the top step with Ryan in my arms. Ouch!
I didn’t know what to do!!! That lizard had both of us trapped upstairs with no way out unless we climbed out of the window onto the roof and shimmied down the porch rail. I could have called 911 to come rescue us, but I had a feeling that might not go over too well with the rescue people, who I’m guessing, have no sympathy for anyone who might be afraid of a lizard.
My heart was racing as I backed myself back up the steps. I had to figure something out! Think, think, think…. OK…. I’ll KILL it! I looked around and didn’t see anything I could kill a lizard with. Nothing! Think, think, think……OK….
I had a small wooden shelf on the wall in the hallway upstairs, so I took the shelf down and peeped down the steps at the lizard. He had moved UP a step….closer to us! Yikes! I had to work fast! I rared back with the wooden shelf and beat the lizard over and over until I was satisfied that he was dead and could no longer cause me to hurt myself.
Whew! I could finally breathe a sigh of relief. I looked at the shelf and unfortunately it must have busted on the last wallop. It was broken completely in half….casualty of war, I guess.
By now, Ryan must have thought I had lost my mind, but he was too little to tell anyone………. so whatever. I scooped him up again and we headed downstairs. The coast was clear and I had saved both of us.
Does anyone need a Zoloft, Prozac, or Paxil?
A little while later, I needed to go back upstairs for something…..to be met by none other than the same lizard! YES! That damn lizard came back alive! He had played dead all along (maybe so I would stop pounding him with the wooden shelf). There he was standing on the bottom landing staring up at me! YES! He was daring me to go back upstairs.
I waited for Minor to get home to let him take care of the lizard……I had had enough of that lizard for the day, and I honestly didn’t think my heart could handle anymore. So when Minor walked in, I told him all about my horrible experience with the lizard that day.
His reply was, “Babe, he was just trying to get down the steps and out the door…..away from a crazy woman that was beating the shit out of him.”
Where's a good cat, when you need one?