Wednesday, May 15, 2013

A Dog's Best Friend

I thought a good follow-up to my last post would be to share tonight's escapades! Don't worry, it wasn't the cockroach again. That demon hasn't reemerged thankfully. I am pretending its disappearance is permanent–like fell-into-an-incinerator-and-died kind of permanent. Do you think an incinerator could kill a cockroach if a nuclear bomb can't? Don't answer that. I don't want to know.

Anyway, the parentals and I went and got foot rubs tonight, leaving the miniature schnauzer, Ranger, my adopted brother, to roam the house freely. Upon our return, my mother found him in the living room thoroughly occupied.

"Ugh. Ranger found a gecko."

I joined her in the living room and we both examined the gecko from a safe 6-foot distance.

"Did Ranger kill it?"

"I can't tell."

"It doesn't look dead."

"I can see its eyes..."

Indeed, right as we said this, the gecko tried to make a break for it.

I don't think it was dead.

I don't know if you have ever seen a gecko move, but its movement is almost as bad as a cockroach. It does this weird little thing where its body moves like a squiggly line, like it is trying to shake its hips while it walks. I don't know if I had ever seen a gecko move before. Well, my mother and I SQUEALED and split like a banana.

I'm really impressed by the amount of movement elicited by creeping things. I know I did at least a two-foot leap in the air, my legs moving in something like a jig, and then I ran to the kitchen where I climbed onto the far cupboard. I smiled and said "Hey" to my dad, who hadn't made it into the living room yet. I don't know what my mom did, but I know she jerked away just as I did.

Once I'd gathered my courage, I went back into the living room. Ranger had followed the gecko under the table where he was trying to engage it in conversation. Or something like that. He had his paw on its tail and was watching it out of the corner of his eye, just waiting for it to move again.

"Look, Ma, I found a friend!"

I'm pretty sure he wasn't being mean, and that he had no intention of ever eating this gecko he was playing with. I think he just wanted a friend. He would watch him, it would slip out from under his paw, he'd grab it again, and stick his nose on it, maybe nip it a little. To be honest, it's how he treats me, so I didn't feel TOO bad for the gecko.

My mom tried to summon my dad to save it, but he said no. She said, "I thought you dealt with geckos in Hawaii?" He replied, "Yeah. I squished 'em." I found it ironic that when he DID come a few minutes later, he still told Ranger not to hurt it. The gecko finally escaped under the couch, and Ranger is once again a sad little lonely dog whose only joy is to follow Tess around and get in her face. Lucky gecko.


  1. Boys and their toys. I guess that saying holds true for boy dogs as well.

  2. hahaha...good times. You "adopted brother" sheesh....but it was funny how you compared him and the gecko to you and him. Funny. If I didn't already feel like I was there..your great writing would have made me feel like I was there :)