In other news, every time I walk down the hallway, or go into a different room, I find myself compulsively scanning the walls and ceiling, looking for a lizard. The one I'm looking for is probably cream with beige stripes, so it might be difficult to spot against our carefully neutral, off-white rented walls. On the other hand, it'll be missing a tail, so I ought to recognize him if I do see him.

The other night, after I finished trying to bully Calliope into divulging just what she did with the rest of the lizard, I checked my closet, made sure the door was firmly closed, and resolved to keep it that way. After that, I retrieved the flashlight from its spot in the pantry, (Sorry, Elvis. Kitchen closet. Am I the only one that uses the word 'pantry'? Sheesh.) and checked under the bureau in the hallway, the daybed in our office and our bed bed in the bedroom, looking for that damn lizard. Calliope helped; crouched down beside me, chin close to the floor, ready to flee at half a second's notice.

I realized that this was a completely idiotic thing to do mere milliseconds before switching on the flashlight for the first time. I did it anyway. Oh yeah, if I was that lizard, and I could climb walls and shit, and I was being chased by a cat? Straight up the nearest wall, no doubt. It's possible, judging from the position of the abandoned tail, that the poor lizard streaked across the office behind me as I sat, oblivious at the keyboard, scaled the wall and escaped straight out the open window.

I hope it did. I hope it's found itself a nice, safe place where it can eat plenty of bugs and grow itself a brand new tail in peace and comfort.

On the other hand, it might have been an elderly lizard, or a lizard with a heart condition. In that case, it might have made it as far as under our bed, for example, before dying and decomposing in the most noisome way possible.