It had a lizard-like look, from the brief glimpse I got, and I was hoping it wasn't a mouse, which would be even worse than a lizard, in my opinion.
Even if you're not a fiber artist, critters who belong outside are not welcome in, but when your couch is covered with projects in varying stages of completion, and you have seven project bags around it, and books and swatches for designs on the coffee table, and yarn yarn everywhere as far as the eye can see, lizards and their ilk are a particularly bad idea. Not to mention mice.
|Standard appearance of couch in my home|
I took a deep breath. I knew I couldn't eat dinner or sleep until I got rid of whatever-that-darty-thing-was. So, what would work best to get a lizard out of the house? Calm was the first essential ingredient. I told the lizard--if it really was a lizard--aloud, "Try to remain calm." That was for my own benefit as well as the lizard's. "I am trying to help you, to put you outside where there are rocks and bushes to hide under and food fit for lizard kings."
I got a broom and a metal bowl. I moved the couch this way and that until the little critter ran out. It was indeed a small lizard. I cornered it here and there with the broom, cutting off its escape until it paused long enough for me to plop the bowl over it.
Phase One Successful!
Another deep breath. Now, how to get the lizard from the middle of the living room over the lip of the doorsill and outside to freedom? There was no way out of the living room without a nice hump of doorsill in the way.
I started sliding the bowl along the floor, slowly, so the lizard could run along with it, and I at least got it close to the door. Then I gently slid one of those (expletive deleted) political flyers we were all getting every day last month under the bowl. At last, a use for politicians! ;-) Or at least, for their mailings.
Phase Two Complete.
"Don't worry, lizard, you're almost there. Stay calm."
I didn't think upending the bowl with the flyer on top so I could carry it outside would really work. The bowl was too big, the flyer too flimsy; the lizard might leap out. Onto me. Not acceptable!
|Lizards and mice and fish, oh my!|
Oops, sorry for the interruption, some fish just swam by.
Anyway, it occurred to me to open the front door and slide the bamboo mat I keep there over the hump of the doorsill, making a kind of ramp.
Then I slowly slid the flyer with the bowl on top onto the mat, over the sill, onto the porch, over to the first step at the edge of the porch, and then a little further, and a little further, and at last, out plopped the little lizard, and it ran along the walkway, out, out, out toward the sidewalk!
I could just picture this lizard telling the other lizards about the adventure s/he just had. They would never believe it.
"This flying saucer came down over my head," the lizard would say.
"Sure, sure," the other lizards would say, smirking.
"No, really, and as long as I kept moving with it, I was fine, but all I kept thinking was, I want to go home."
(Yes, I watched The Wizard of Oz again recently. Excellent movie to knit by.)
|Flying Saucer, or Lizard Removal System|
At any rate, it was a consciousness-raising experience for me, because I stayed calm, and I can only assume it was consciousness-raising for the lizard as well.
I am making more of an effort to keep the couch clearer. And I'm keeping the seven project bags in another room and only pulling out the one I'm working on at the moment.
This is not just because there are a lot of lizards in the neighborhood. I prefer not to have chaos in my living room. I think better when my surroundings are beautiful. Yes, my projects are beautiful too, but not in cascading piles leaving nowhere to sit.
Someday I know I will have a real workroom with plenty of shelving, and bins for storage, and if any lizards get in, I know exactly how to get them out again.