Death Match Destruction: A lizard's tale

I have to confess that I’ve been terrified to go into my kitchen for two days. I haven’t been able to do my dishes or cook anything, although I just bought some couscous that I really want to try out. This fear due to several factors including the dust covered “clean” dishes, the pile of crusty, dirty dishes left by a not-so-considerate group of PCVs, the spider webs and spiders, and…the two huge freaking lizards who set up shop between my water filter and grimy stovetop during my absence.

 For two days, these lizards have been the bane of my existence. I know they are both males because at first they would both do the push-ups, head bobbing thing which is a sign of dominance, an act to show off who is the more bad-ass of the two. At some point this morning, their constant challenging came to a head in an epic, lizard battle, death match.

They battled. Using their spiny tails and heads as fierce weapons, they jumped and dived and dove and circled each other with looks of menace in their eyes all the while in my kitchen and patio. They scaled the walls, chasing each other back and forth, leaping astonishing distances to either escape or catch the other. I watched, mildly horrified, mostly annoyed at the noise, until their heaving chests marked an impasse. That’s when I struck.

Like lightening, I burst through my screen door with a bucket and lid and bolted straight for the smaller lizard looking shell shocked on my western wall. He made a futile attempt to scurry away, but when I thought he might outrun me, I reached for my broom and freaked him out with the threat of continued violence. The larger lizard watched from his hiding spot behind the kitchen door, content to rest, but clearly shaking with fear. I lunged, dropping the broom. The lizard leaped dramatically, but I was not distracted. I lithely slipped the bucket underneath him and used the lid to gently swipe him from the wall after his unsteady landing. The lid went on. He struggled and then went still, playing dead. It didn’t matter; I had what I needed. I marched through my living room and deposited him outside of my front porch by tipping the bucket over. At first, he tentatively ventured his head out, not believing in the promise of freedom. And then, once he realized there was nothing holding him back, he darted into the weeds faster than I’ve ever seen a lizard move.

Feeling smug, I went back for the second, larger lizard. I’d like to say that my experience with catching lizards thus far (ie the one I had caught minutes before) prepared me well for this one. It did not.

After twenty minutes of chasing and lunging, poking and trying to trick him into running into the bucket, he tired out and retreated under my sink. I moved in, grabbed a spatula off the counter, and literally scooped him up like a pancake and plopped him into the bucket. He didn’t even struggle. Outside the front door, he bolted to join his mortal enemy in the weeds and, presumably, to continue their epic battle of destiny.

And me…well, I went back into the kitchen to do some dishes and make some couscous.