As I re-entered my bedroom, I gaped to see the smart bugger had pushed its hunk of bread close to a tank wall and stood on it, hopping, trying to grab the edge.
“Aren’t you just the cutest little escape artist,” I cooed as I placed the water bowl in the bottom. I then spritzed some droplets to keep the place damp, which led to more glaring. I’d found a lizard with character. “You’re going to need a name.” Given the bright orange color, and the way it kept hopping, trying to reach the top edge of the tank, I suddenly smiled. “I think I’ll call you Tigger because, even if you’re not a striped tiger, you’re ferocious like one.” I’d loved the Winnie the Pooh story books my grandmother used to read to me.
Tigger continued to eye me balefully but then ruined his ferocious expression by crossing its little wee arms.
So stinking cute. “Don’t be mad. I’m going to give you a good life. Lots of food and tummy rubs.” Hopefully it wouldn’t bite my fingers.
Since Tutu had begun watching an old war movie, I closed my door and turned on the small television on my dresser, flipping the channels until I found a show I liked called The Righteous Gemstones. Absolutely insane comedy about a rich preacher family featuring John Goodman.
To my surprise, Tigger dragged his bread over to the corner closest to the TV, sat on it, and watched. Given its interest, I began explaining the characters and plots points. Weird? Totally, but it had been ages since I’d actually hung out with anyone not related to me. My best friend had moved to O’ahu for better job opportunities and gotten married. She had two kids now keeping her busy so our visits had become few and far between. With my work, and Tutu—who, while a grown capable man, failed at taking care of himself—I couldn’t seem to find the time—nor did I make the effort—to establish a new friend. Probably not a good thing. I’d hate to end up grumpy like a certain someone I knew.
At ten o’clock, I turned off the television, and my new lizard made a noise. It also shot me a look as if to say, “turn it back on.”
“Time for bed. Speaking of which, here’s something a little cozier than your soggy bread to snuggle.” I yanked off my T-shirt and folded it before placing it in the tank. I didn’t use a clean one in the hopes of getting it used to my scent.
I went to sleep, and when I woke in the morning, Tigger had burrowed into the fabric. I noticed it had eaten the rest of the bread and the mango. Goodness. Where did it pack it all? Its round belly appeared distended. Had it overeaten? I probably should have tried harder to remove the bread. Baked goods could cause digestive issues for some animals.
I headed into the kitchen to find Tutu already there reading his paper—which had gotten thinner over the years and appeared to be more ads than content—and drinking his coffee.
“Morning,” I chirped, cheerful as could be mostly because I knew it drove him nuts.
“Nothing good about it.”
Luckily, I loved him or he’d get a frying pan to the head. Speaking of which, I pulled it down and cooked up some eggs and sausages, cut up some fruit, and squeezed myself a fresh glass of orange juice. I sat down across from Tutu, who shoveled his food as if I would steal it. One day, I just might for the entertainment.
“When’s the new batch of obsidian supposed to arrive?” I couldn’t finish the work on Jameson’s project until I could melt some more.
“This afternoon. Delivery truck broke down and ended up in the shop.” A delay that obviously vexed Tutu.
“In that case, I’m going to run into town and grab a few things.”
“Like what? We just did groceries.”
“I need stuff for my new lizard.”
“Vermin,” he muttered.
“It’s harmless.” I hoped. I really should try to figure out what I’d caught. What if it were poisonous? Better not lick it. “I’ll be back in an hour or so.”
“Whatever.”
I peeked in on Tigger, who remained asleep. Just in case it woke hungry, I put another mango in the tank and the sausage I didn’t eat then headed out.
The pet store had everything I needed. Mister, water dispenser, freeze-dried bugs, proper coconut bedding, and the thing that made me most giddy, a harness and leash made specially for lizards.
Was I going to walk it? Probably not, but this would allow me to bring Tigger around with me without fear of it escaping. Over time, maybe my new pet would love me enough it wouldn’t run away.
I returned to find Tigger pacing and the food gone. Soon as it heard me, it whirled and waved its little paws.
“Hello to you too. Did you miss me?”
It pointed to its mouth. My jaw dropped in astonishment. Surely it hadn’t just communicated.
“Are you trying to tell me you’re still hungry?” I laughed and shook my head. “You must be a growing baby with the amount of calories you keep packing away. Good thing I went shopping. Look, I got you some presents.”
Tigger remained less than impressed as I swapped out the items in the cage, except for my shirt, in the hopes he’d get used to my scent. In better news, I didn’t get bitten, probably because the little reptile sulked.
“Want some crunchies?” I dumped some freeze-dried mealworms and crickets into the cage.
