My dog brought a dead lizard into the house while I was the only one home. I stood there, frozen, for a good 30 seconds before getting the dog outside. Then I stood there, frozen but now squealing (I can't think of a good word for this noise...it's the "Oh My Gosh! I totally want to freak out and scream but that's weird cause it's just me around here" noise.) and trying to think through what to do.
I didn't think the dogs should get the lizard, but Addy was still in the house. But to get her meant I had to walk over the dead as a doornail lizard. And is putting the dogs outside and leaving them until someone gets home to take care of the lizard really the best solution? Probably not.
So I psyched myself up and got the dead lizard onto a piece of paper with the help of a shoe, carried it through the house, out the front door and flung it into my neighbors yard! Apparently, the adrenaline coursing through my body affected my judgment. Then the paper touched my hand, cue more freaking out and handwashing, and I didn't walk where the lizard had been for the rest of the day.
I think I need a husband.
No comments:
Post a Comment