I have this thing about lizards and I used to own geckos when I was younger, just like this little guy I snapped a picture of in Florida. They move fast, and if you grab them by the tail that tail will wiggle in your hands like a worm being threatened with a hook. But, I dig them and the cats we had in our house at time of the geckos thought they were delicious because they kept on eating them.
The family cats would also sneak into my bedroom and eat the heads off my plants I was trying to grow… every time. I just ended up giving up on having lizards if I had cats and growing plants because I have the black thumb of plant death.
I spent quite a bit of our Honeymoon trip chasing fish in the ocean, sharks, barracudas, and lizards on land. I became like the lizard whisperer and even got some amazingly close pictures because I stepped toward them, stopped, stepped toward them, pretended I wasn’t going to take a picture, and they’d be caught off guard and end up not fleeing when they caught sight of me. My husband would just laugh as he saw me scurry after every lizard I saw and then take pictures of me stalking the little guys and inching my camera ever so slowly toward them.
Now, I’m the one laughing because my lizard whisperer ways helped him out of jumping on the counters. I hear this girly scream talking to my mom and I go out to check on what’s going on. There is just this super tiny, ultra adorable little gecko scampering about. I saw him before in our laundry room and a few other times, but this was the first time he ventured out into the living area. My husband screamed for me to get it out, and of course, scared the little guy into hiding. And, I had to explain to my mom I’d call her back because my husband is terrified. I guess lizards in our house turns into a Godzilla scenario of epic proportions that I need to rescue him from.
I did a stake out on our little gecko friend, finding him again in the living area, missing him, and then catching sight of him again late at night. I tried my slow-moving chameleon moves on him and somehow got him away from his hiding spots. I ended up sitting on the floor and cracking up because he then moved toward me and ended up hiding behind my knee. I’d scoot backwards on the floor and he’d run right underneath my legs and I’d laugh even harder.
After much patience I held both my hands in scoop fashion and he walked right up into my hand. I held him carefully, since he was so tiny and he had little dust bunnies attached to his back legs. I opened up our garage, ran down the stairs, and tried to set him on a leaf, but he refused to leave and I had to wait a while as he crawled around and around in circles and avoided the leaf. He was so cute, I was pretty close to hiding him in my room, finding a little bug box, and keeping him. I resisted this urge since I’m not sure what he would eat and I’d be too tempted to set him loose and hear my husband scream like a girl again.