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I went outside with a bag of trash to spray myself with bug spray (I react badly to mosquitoes, which are legion here in Florida) and put the bag in the trash can. I closed the door behind me, put the bag in the trash, and came back to the front porch to spray myself before my morning walk.
A small lizard who still shows slight signs of regrowing her tail had run onto the door. Little body, big eyes, tail about the right length for an extra few days of growth. . . . I think it's Izzy! These anoles don't really have markings. Their skin changes dramatically depending on how wet or dry they are (and possibly other factors). They sometimes look like they have patterns, but often they don't, and I have seen the same lizard sitting in the sun change appearance over the course of an afternoon.
I'm pretty sure it's Izzy, though, and her behavior confirmed it. As I watched, she ran to the hinge side of the door. Our hinges are on the outside (which seems like a security flaw to me, but what do I know? I mean, I'd never even think to do things like wire the house so that turning off one light switch in the bedroom turned off all power to a third of the house). She then started to slip between the door and the frame. Alarmed, I carefully opened the door and slipped inside to see if I could intercept her before the cat did; I knew I'd left him just inside the front door.
She froze, riding the door, and hung there while I kept it open a moment, afraid of crushing her (but also afraid I was letting mosquitoes in the house). I went back outside. She ran out of the crack for a moment, then back in.
I went for a walk, and when I came back half an hour later, there was no sign of her. I did assure myself that she can't get through the crack when the door is closed, but there's a great honking hole on the opposite side at the bottom where the door joins the frame. Sometimes Doofus the Cat sticks his nose in there, waiting for something to come through, but I can't imagine anything would come into that hole with a great pink-and-black nose blocking the exit.
Then again, Izzy has a head slightly larger than a brand-new eraser at the top of a standard #2 pencil, so we're not talking about vast amounts of brain power here.
Speaking of vast amounts of brain power, I'd better get back to work. . . .
A small lizard who still shows slight signs of regrowing her tail had run onto the door. Little body, big eyes, tail about the right length for an extra few days of growth. . . . I think it's Izzy! These anoles don't really have markings. Their skin changes dramatically depending on how wet or dry they are (and possibly other factors). They sometimes look like they have patterns, but often they don't, and I have seen the same lizard sitting in the sun change appearance over the course of an afternoon.
I'm pretty sure it's Izzy, though, and her behavior confirmed it. As I watched, she ran to the hinge side of the door. Our hinges are on the outside (which seems like a security flaw to me, but what do I know? I mean, I'd never even think to do things like wire the house so that turning off one light switch in the bedroom turned off all power to a third of the house). She then started to slip between the door and the frame. Alarmed, I carefully opened the door and slipped inside to see if I could intercept her before the cat did; I knew I'd left him just inside the front door.
She froze, riding the door, and hung there while I kept it open a moment, afraid of crushing her (but also afraid I was letting mosquitoes in the house). I went back outside. She ran out of the crack for a moment, then back in.
I went for a walk, and when I came back half an hour later, there was no sign of her. I did assure myself that she can't get through the crack when the door is closed, but there's a great honking hole on the opposite side at the bottom where the door joins the frame. Sometimes Doofus the Cat sticks his nose in there, waiting for something to come through, but I can't imagine anything would come into that hole with a great pink-and-black nose blocking the exit.
Then again, Izzy has a head slightly larger than a brand-new eraser at the top of a standard #2 pencil, so we're not talking about vast amounts of brain power here.
Speaking of vast amounts of brain power, I'd better get back to work. . . .