Without missing a beat, the emergency crew (Molly and Owen) were on his heels. That's right. We take our lizard safety seriously. They eat the bad bugs, so they are pretty much royalty. {Please don't tell me that's suburban legend, and they're actually vegetarians.}
The lizard was skimmed out of the pool alive, but when Molly came back in, she informed me, he had water in his lungs, and might not make it.
I am pretty calloused to the reality of lizards dying. I can't get attached - there are dozens guarding our property all summer long. I'd like to say hundreds, because that sounds better, but let's be real.
{Don't discount dozens. Dozens are A LOT. 12 x 5? 12 x 12? Who knows?}
Usually, they are small. Kind of gross, and mostly unimpressive. But the other day Mark fished out a HUGE, very IMpressive, dead lizard from the pool. It looked like someone's pet iguana. Easily could have been sold at the pet store for $30. {Anyone know if I'm even close on the price of iguanas?}
Then yesterday, his twin brother came by. This one was a little smaller, but pet-store-worthy, for sure. He stayed on our patio most of the day, even with kids in and out and Mark and I getting dangerously close. He would only scurry a little, but held his ground. I think he was looking for his brother.
Just keep your appetite up while you mourn, Mr. Lizardi*.
I think this story really could have gone somewhere. More then I took it. But let's not forget that my morning nap was interrupted and I am tired. I just don't have it in me.
*Mr. Lizardi was my brother's 5th grade teacher. I just remembered that. Neil, let's see if you are reading my blog.
