Leaping Lizards

July 25, 2009 -

Lacey was my little brindle boxer.  A petite powerhouse, yet she was the most gentle boxer I have ever met.  The most loving too.

Lacey loved lizards.  We lived in Florida where lizards often became house guests.  I would leave my back door wide open to allow the dogs access to the pool area and outside, so of course lizards would often find their way in.

Daily, I would find Lacey searching for her scaly friends in corners, behind the toybins, in the plants, under furniture.  Once found, she would paw gently at them, or block their path to herd them into the opening where she would have better access to them.  Then, she would get as flat as she could, her chin pressed agaisnt the floor and just watch.  Her little nose would twitch at their scent.  So patient and still as to not scare them she would watch the lizard.  The bobbing of their heads.  They would try to escape behind an object for safety, but lacey would spring up to block their escape.  She just wanted to play, to sniff them, to watch them.

The screenhouse for the pool was always a fun playhouse for her and her scaly friends.  The lizards would cling to the edge of the screen, climbing high.  Lacey would stretch, standing on her back feet to reach where they were going.  Ever so gently she would pull them by their tail so they wouldn't get too far (and so their tails wouldn't come off).  They would dart to the far end of the screen, Lacey would spring after them.  It was all a fun game of cat and mouse (where no one got hurt).  Perhaps it was a little more like a school girl on the playground chasing after her crush.

Sometimes she would even pick them up in her mouth ever so gently and carry them.  She usually did this to save them from the hunt of  the other dogs.  She had no intention to harm them. 

I remember one day when Lacey had found a little friend.  Her sister was trying to pounce on the lizard so Lacey scooped him up and carried him to the living room.  However, I happened to be vacuuming in that room. Worried for her friends safety, she scopped him up again and carried him under the coffee table.  She set him between her paws under the table and with a watchful eye, kept tabs on the dangers of her pouncing sister and the loud whurr of the vacuum. 

It was time for me to vacuum under the table, so as I got closer she scooped the lizard up again and moved to another area of the floor.  To her dismay, as she set her scaly friend down he didn't move.  She nudged him with her nose.  No response.  Sniff. Sniff.  Another little nudge.  No movement.  A  sad sign from Lacey.  Her friend did not make it.  I stopped cleaning at sat beside her, she looked up with sad eyes.  Another sigh.  She picked up her fallen friend and carried him to her bed.  

A week later I found him still tucked in the corner of her bed.  Typical of Lacey, a faithful protector.