Here, Lizard, Lizard, Lizard

One thing that I've been very thankful for since losing D is that I have not dealt with fear in being alone. I live in a safe neighborhood in a quiet suburb, and I have friendly yet alert neighbors. Nothing gets past their watchful eyes and near my home. Until a few weeks ago.

I was stepping into D's office from the outside deck, when I felt the eyes of an unwanted visitor. A large lizard had slipped in and was throwing himself frantically against the sliding glass door to get out. When I tried to help redirect him (with a broom), he squeezed under a piece of furniture and continued his flipping around under there. This was no Geico gecko. This was his goliath cousin from the Amazon, and I'm not sure how he ended up in central Texas. Or in my home.

I lived for two weeks refusing to believe that he may still be in my house. At one point I think I heard him performing that flipping move in my bedroom, but when I regained consciousness I did not see him anywhere. Denial: it's not just a river in Egypt.

Earlier this week I was walking through D's study admiring the sunny day outside, when I spied my arch nemesis about 6 feet up a wall just hanging around. And eyeing me. Again, I tried to helpfully sweep him out the door into the backyard, but he scuttled and flipped into the laundry room. I will really miss having clean clothes in this lifetime.

The picture above shows Plan B: stuff a table cloth under the door to the laundry room and hope the lizard relocates outside through the open garage door. I'll really miss never using that table cloth and my garage again, too.

I'm not sure how I will know when/if the lizard has left the building. Like the Taco Bell chihuahua, I think I may need a bigger box. Or a new house.