A critter magnet...

I've decided that I must be a magnet for everything with hooves, claws, scales, wings... anything and everything that can be put into the animal or insect or reptile category out here in the Hill Country.

Case in point:  I went into town this morning... did some errands and stopped at the little bookshop on Main Street. (As if I don't have enough to read, with at least twenty books on my 'waiting to be read' shelf in my library.)

So there I was, happily browsing... and I saw this cute little book on scones and muffins for tea parties. I have two such books already, but the cover of that book was very pretty so I thought I'd have a look.  The fingers of my right hand were just millimeters away from taking that book from the shelf and then I saw it.... a small green lizard, hanging onto the spine of the book and looking sideways at me with those wide eyes of theirs that hardly every blink.

I'm not afraid of lizards... they were the first critter that I had to get used to when we moved to Texas in 1993. Green lizards with non-blinking eyes and pink necks were all over the yard of the little house we rented when we first got to this wildlife and reptile-filled state.  After screaming countless times when I saw them out on the backyard deck years ago, and after explaining to neighbors that no one was actually killing me.... I came to the conclusion that lizards were a part of Texas life, just like BBQ restaurants and western boots. (One quickly learns not to call them 'cowboy' boots.)

Be that as it may.... even though I'm not afraid of lizards, I don't want them near me or on me (and they can and do jump when you surprise them). It took every ounce of self-discipline within me this morning to not scream when I saw that lizard within an eyelash-length from my hand.  I quickly pulled my hand away from that book and that shelf, but it was too late.... I had scared the lizard and he jumped down from the shelf and landed at my feet. And there he sat, looking up at me from the floor. Neither one of us blinked or moved.

As I stood there wondering whether or not to tell the bookshop owner that she had a visitor in her cookbook section, the little green lizard scurried underneath the bookshelf. Fine. Let him be. I didn't say a word to the woman who owns the shop. She's born and raised in this state, anyway, so I doubt if she would have been upset if I'd seen a snake up there on that shelf. (Perish that thought and let's not put those words out into the universe.)

I no longer wanted to look at that book, even though the lizard was now underneath the shelf and nowhere near either the book or me. At that moment, my taste for scones was non-existent, and who knows what that lizard did while he was perched on that book. Had he been eating flies while he was wrapped around the spine of that book? Or worse, had his digestive system just dispelled the remains of the little insects he may have eaten for breakfast? Heaven only knows what detritus he may have left on that pretty little book.

I left the bookshop at that point. The shop's owner knows that I have a library filled with books and I just come in from time to time to browse or buy something that I must read right now, so as I walked towards the door, she just told me to "Have a blest day."

I resisted the urge to tell her that a critter-free day would be even more of a blessing.