A Lizard's Tale

I'm sitting on the back patio putting new music on my iPod for my gym workouts, grooving to a random selection of songs. The sun is shining, it's 10 am but it's not quite 80 degrees, so it's wonderfully pleasant. Alanna is playing with a friend in the sandbox. I am watching a lizard eat red ants, and thinking, "How awesome! Go lizard, go! Eat those nasty things! You have a place in my heart and are welcome in the backyard." I think he lives under the water barrels because we've noticed him on the turf and in the rocks quite a bit recently. And, truly, he's welcome to share our space (because ultimately, we encroached on his homeland first).

And then there's a ferocious rush and a quick growl as Rusty notices the lizard and charges toward him. The silence and serenity of the morning is shattered. Rusty smashes the lizard against the shed and attempts to eat him. I start screaming, "No! NO! Leave the lizard alone! He's harmless!" and scamper to the site of the massacre, hoping to rescue the reptile. When I reach the place of carnage, the first thing I notice is the squirming tail of the lizard. I think, "Oh, phew, just his tail came off. Good defense strategy!" but then I notice the poor thing on his back, squirming just like his tail, but without one of his back legs. Oh. I don't think that's part of his defense strategy.

Rusty, because he's a well trained dog, has backed off and left the lizard alone. So, it's up to me to scoop up the broken animal, along with his tail, and do something with him. Because I can't kill things with my bare hands, I roll him under the shed to die a slow, painful 3-legged death on his own. I hope he goes into shock quickly and has some sort of happy lizard dream on his way to the reptile home in the sky. And that he has family members who will take over eating the red ants where he left off.

Interesting scientific observation: A lizard's tail, when recently detached from the body, wiggles quite vigorously for a good minute by itself. Fascinating.