I went to Arizona for a week and a half and stayed at my parents' house. I left Noah and the cats in J-ville, but I still had to share my room with Roger. More about that later.
After I met Roger, I started reading a book. Have you read That Quail, Robert? You really should; it's the sweetest story. We had tons of quail at our last house so I felt like I had a personal connection with the, um, protagonist.
Roger made his first appearance in the bathroom as I was getting out of the shower. Florida lizards can be pretty cute because they're so tiny, but apparently they're strapping in the desert. I called for backup, but was met with, "Just throw your towel on him." That might have worked in my house, but not in my parents'. So Roger made his way to his quarters, which happen to be mine. I yelled for a flashlight and got down to look under the bed: cases of diet dr. pepper, socks, Skor wrapper, licorice, See's wrappers... jeez... I don't have a chance against my genetic sweet tooth, do I? Anyway, after searching, Roger apparently had hung the "Do not disturb" sign wherever he was and I resigned to staying with a lizard. He made another appearance in the office, and this time I thought, "Camera, then lizard-catching contraption." I actually think he was sleeping here because he was reluctant to move. When I tried to scoop him up, he woke up and scuttled to safety/blue couch.
Meanwhile various questions about if Roger is okay and what he could be eating (is he the one eating all that chocolate in my room?) speckle our days.
A couple of days later Monty was making breakfast and saw little Roge-y. He said he was inspired to drop the dishtowel he was holding. The frightened little visitor had run for his life between dad's legs-- right at the moment the towel fell on him for some reason. Dad scooped him up and out he went. Everyone felt much better after that.
Ha! But that's not the whole story... the paradisaical backyard pool was calling one evening, so I opened the door and instinctively jumped. After making sure that no one had seen me, I laughed. "Crazy, Julie... wait... that was Roger!" He'd been waiting and complaining about the service around here and pounced on my leg as soon as soon as I slid open the door.
Oh, Roge-y. Why do we try to keep you out?
Here's the answer:
