Butters and I have a delightful ‘thing’ we do.

Every night during the Summer, when the sun goes down – I say to her “Wanna go see your lizards??”  She understands this and eagerly stands wagging at the front door.

It’s adorable.

The porch light attracts a myriad of Summer winged bugs and is prime real estate for Summer winged bug eaters.

We have a little family (maybe their not related – maybe it’s more of a commune?) of lizards living above the light, just under the eaves.

Butters will run out, sit staring at the wall and jump up to interact with one if she spots it.

______________________________

Last year she accidentally killed one – she placed it in her outdoor day bed and curled up with it. It was the most heartbreaking thing to witness.

Dead lizard, belly up – drying in the sun.

Dog treating it like a pup.

I let her grieve for her lost friend for a day or two, then disposed of it.

Last night, before bed – I asked ‘Wanna see your lizards?’

We stepped outside and she flew at the wall and BAM!

She must have nailed it just right.

Those manatee lips of hers may be cute, but they seem to be an impairment when it comes to getting anything flat or small past them and into her mouth.

Porch light lizard, (that I didn’t even have a chance to see) successfully (or, unsuccessfully from its point of view I’m sure) arrived in the mouth of my dog.

I stood in horror.

I thought she would spit it out – and what was I going to do to end the suffering of a mangled lizard??

No need to have worried myself with that ‘what if’.

My innocent, lover-not-a-fighter, cowardly manatee started chewing.

Intently.

I was still stood staring and my eyes widened with every crunch.

She then trotted over to her water bucket and delicately drank – it was like watching someone gingerly dab their lips with a fine linen napkin after tearing into a slab of raw meat.

It was then I noticed she had not devoured all of it.

I was disgusted – my stomach roiling.

Then I remembered she sleeps with me.

I was not taking any chances.

While she doesn’t often snuggle too close, many nights I wake to her standing inches away from my face, breathing heavily.

I washed her face – lips and tongue – and tossed a dental hygiene bone on the carpet for her.

I wonder if the other lizards have noticed their friend is missing??

What if I find tiny little ‘lost’ posters near the porch light tonight?!?

What if they spot the tail at the scene and surmise there was a struggle?

I shall have to get rid of the evidence.

Which makes me an accomplice to my canine criminal.

*sigh*