Off to free the lizard
Our humor columnist and her fearless Morkie face off against a reptilian home invader—with comical results.
Illustration by Jan A. Igoe
Ever since he was a young pup, Tango has dreamed of catching a lizard. A lethal mix of yappy Yorkie and militant Maltese, Tango fancies himself—his pudgy, short-legged, 11-pound, waddling self—as a mortal threat to lizard kind.
Don’t tell him I said this, but the coyote had better odds of bringing down the Roadrunner. All summer long, those little green anoles taunted Tango as they darted behind the nearest drainpipe or mysteriously blended with a bush. Their daring escapes were too much for him to wrap his Morkie mind around.
He finally managed to chase a sluggish one through a ripped screen, trapping it against the glass. To be fair, this particular lizard was missing a foot and half its tail, but Tango didn’t care. Ready for his first kill, he patrolled the window exit relentlessly. I tried to help, but every time I pried the screen off to free it, the stupid lizard went and hid.
As winter looms, lizards who linger face perilous choices. They can’t fly south, so it’s either camp out in some frigid, rotting log, or break into a nice warm home and take your chances with a savage Morkie. That’s what the three-footed, half-tailed lizard stuck in the window decided to do.
Tango spotted it scurrying across the floor from two rooms away. Faster than a speeding sloth, he bolted for the dark kitchen—barking like his head was on fire—until he crashed headfirst into a cabinet. Score: Lizard 1; Tango 0.
The internet knows how to accomplish everything, including removing lizards before your dog sustains permanent brain damage. Your loved ones could be victims, too. According to pestcontrolfaq.com, lizards “falling from the ceiling and landing on family members can be alarming.” No argument here.
The first thing to do is enlist a friend to block the lizard’s escape as you coax him toward the desired exit. Don’t try this if you’ve been drinking. The lizard knows exactly where you are and can corner like a Porsche 911, while you, with your opposing thumbs and neuron-packed brain, tackle the dust it left behind.
Next idea: Ice water. There are two schools of thought on this. One site says lizards will find the exit if you spray them. The other says they’ll slow down long enough for an inept human to catch them. Neither was true, but tag-team lizard chasing could easily become a spectator sport.
Next idea: Have you got a peacock feather? (No judgement.) Lizards don’t like them, maybe because trying to figure out what color to turn could make their little brains explode. Just tickle it.
Next up: Get a newspaper and gently prod the lizard toward the door. If you no longer subscribe and your frustration is redlining, smack it with your iPad. Enough is enough.
When you give up from sheer exhaustion, here’s one last suggestion. Leave the lizard alone. Offer it free rent and all the bugs it can eat. Forget exterminators. The lizard’s services are free and nontoxic. And your dogs will have something to hunt on a rainy day.
One precaution: Get your Morkie a helmet. You can probably find them in the peacock feather store.
Jan A. Igoe writes in a critter-filled house where wintering lizards are welcome. Jan, her dogs and her lizards wish everyone a Merry Christmas and bug-free new year. Please join the fun at HumorMe@SCLiving.coop.