Le Franco Phoney

For the past week, I’ve had the company of a medium-sized, slightly green, patterned lizard. My French book on animals tells me it’s a Lézard des Souches (a sand lizard). Bruno the cat brought me the lizard as a gift — his third this summer. Bruno is spritely for a cat of fourteen years, capable of spotting lizards from a-far and catching them even when they drop their tail in an effort to escape him. The first lizard was the largest at around 25cm (without her tail — and yes, it was female, as the female of the species are a lovely bright green), and relatively easy to catch with the help of a cloth: dump the cloth on the lizard and it stops moving; pick up the cloth with the lizard inside and dump the lizard back outside while the cat is still hunting for the lizard indoors. Result! The second lizard was smaller and also easy to catch using this method. The third lizard, however, found the narrow gap under my fridge before I had chance to catch him.

About twice a day, I’ve been hearing the lizard scampering around under my fridge, but he never came from under there long enough for me to catch him. I was worried he might die of fright: bad for the lizard and bad for the smell of my place. I offered him food: banana (stupid when I think about it - a lizard could never peel a banana to try the contents); some sliced apple; a piece of plum; a dead fly; a white flower, and a yellow weed. He wouldn’t come out. I found myself pulling apart the cupboard mounts next to the fridge in case he was stuck and unable to get out the way he got in. Still nothing. A fly even flew down under the cupboard and survived without being eaten by the lizard. Now, if you have to live with a lizard, the least it can do is eat the flies. Disappointed with the un-lizardness of my new lizard friend, I gave up trying to help him, and accepted I had a new housemate.

Today, day seven, the lizard took the plunge into the open space and the cat pounced immediately, taking less than a second to jump from his curled-up-asleep position on the couch to the fridge area. I think the cat landed his ample girth on top of the lizard, as, by the time I pounced on the cat in much the same fashion as he had pounced on the lizard, the lizard seemed to be pinned under his belly, without harm. Good one Bruno. As I lifted the cat off him, the lizard scurried into the dead end of the bathroom. I dumped the cat outside and caught the lizard. He did what the other two lizards had done: he hissed at me with his toothless mouth, then played dead, which is handy for catching them really. I noticed his tail had already regrown about 3cm, although it lacked proper colour. I ushered the cat inside while I dumped the lizard in a rock garden. Clueless to what I had in my cloth, Bruno ran back in and sniffed around near the fridge. He still is, and that was hours ago. I suspect he will keep looking for days, poor thing.