The Creature in the Coat Closet
Watching a severed blue tail twitch wasn’t on my agenda for that weekend.
I was typing away on my laptop (or—if we’re being honest—probably binging something on Netflix) when it appeared just inside the room. It breached the threshold and now stood there, insulting me. Its body stayed perfectly still except for the tail, which twitched ever so slightly.
I sat there in stunned silence. I couldn’t believe my eyes and was a bit afraid to move for fear of what would happen. My two dogs slept peacefully nearby, undisturbed. Unaware of the uninvited guest. Useless. Adorable, but useless.
Many a creature has walked into my master bedroom, human and otherwise. Giant spiders? Sure! Centipedes? Absolutely! A plethora of dogs and puppies? Why not!
That day—that creature—was a first.
I knew better than to move, but I couldn’t sit there. A victim. A prisoner. And if there’s one thing I hate, it’s feeling trapped in my own house by something with a heartbeat the size of a popcorn kernel.
I got up and grabbed my salt gun, the one reserved for crawling and flying insects. Not for this visitor. But it’s what I knew. And from past experience, I knew if I could get close enough to shoot it, I could stun it long enough to decide what to do next.
But my opponent was bigger. And I wasn’t entirely sure what it was.
I slid slowly off the bed, and it darted into the coat closet just outside the room. Gone in a blur of claws and audacity.
The bad news: It got away. The good news: I knew where it was.
That’s when I sent this text to my husband, upstairs and completely unaware of the psychological battle happening below:
He didn’t come down to help me…at first. He came to make sure I wasn’t crazy. Which, frankly, is fair. Marriage is largely verifying whether the other person is overreacting in real time.
Sure enough, there was the intruder’s tail slightly sticking out from underneath the closet door. Motionless now. Which was somehow creepier.
Eventually, my husband handled the situation in seconds. Seconds I had apparently intended to spend preparing for battle like a suburban gladiator armed with a gun meant only for bugs. Asking for help, even when I can’t fully explain the problem or why it matters to me, is healthy.
Apparently, I’m still learning that.
One lizard at a time. 🦎
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