Kitchen Lizards!Remember we tried our hands and hearts at having a dog (Mini)? As you recall, our weekend dog extravaganza went amiss due to allergies — and Joel’s phobia of delayed caffeine consumption. Our newest arrival did not show up by choice. It was more of a shriek-jump back-take a deep breath kind of thing. Our newest arrival is the kitchen lizard – and I found him.

Gender Identification
It’s a lizard, so how can I be sure it’s a him? A couple of reasons – the easy one is that when I did a post on Saban lizards, I learned a tidbit or two about the coloring of males and females. The more challenging reason is how many times Joel has asked me to wait while he painstakenly hovered for the perfect shot of a Saban lizard. Imagine, walking up the 1,064 steps of Mt. Scenery at a snail’s pace as your spouse tells you to stop for every sighting of a lizard in the perfect sunny spot? For those of you who haven’t seen this phenomenon yourselves – there are Saban lizards everywhere as you walk the hiking trails. This means a lot of stopping on my part, while Joel tries to get our little digital up close, with the lizard having none of it most of the time.

Predictable Patterns
So you can imagine what happened upon first sighting the lizard (after the shriek-jump back part). Out comes the camera for what we think is a brief stay tucked under the cover of our gas stove lid (the lid lifts up when you want to use it, which is how I discovered little “Spot”). Hmm, no dashing this time, to Joel’s great delight – even if the angle was bad, he snapped away trying for a good shot. Er, I guess cooking my breakfast is out of the question? I wondered. I gave Spot some time to decide to leave, but he was pretty adamant that this was his spot, on the far end of the stove.

After awhile, Spot and I made a deal – I used the front burner, farthest away from him – and he continued to bask in the sun, seemingly unaware of the nearby flame. You’d think the excitement would be enough for one day, but Spot kept coming back for more. We did become aware that he left every now and then, although we don’t know if he went outside or just found himself a nice nook somewhere else within the stove.

Living Together
Every day, there he’d be – hanging about as nonchalantly as ever – in some unspoken contract that he was our new, low maintenance pet. We didn’t have to walk Spot or feed him. He didn’t appear to need a litter box. And the best part is that he eats bugs, so he’s really on Joel’s side when it comes to keeping too much nature out of the cottage. All he seemed to require was that little piece of real estate on the oven.

We didn’t see much roaming around, until one day, Joel sighted something that reminded us of our less-than nimble cat. There was Spot, poised at the edge to the stove, looking like he had a mission. Not so successfully, he leaped up toward the top of the refrigerator and smacked against the side, falling to the ground. Like cats, they must have nine lives – or land on their feet – because Spot seemed to escape injury from his crash landing. Like all good pet owners, Joel had himself a laugh before he remembered to be concerned about Spot’s welfare. We’re working on that one folks….

So overall, we like our kitchen lizard. Learning to live together is not so different from some of the other compromises we’ve made with nature in Saba: the donkey braying in the yard next door when he comes to cut the grass, the yodeling cat stopping for a mid-nightly yawl-lo, the ecofriendly habits we’ve adopted – it’s all part of this island adventure. We wouldn’t trade it for the world.

.: Learn More About International Coach Academy :.