A few minutes ago, I stepped out into my little garden/patio to dump some spare drinking water into the soil near my peach tree. (The same peach tree happened to be the source of a real Milago Beanfield moment for me earlier this year, namely the Death of the Blossoms.)
I don’t wear shoes in the house. But I keep a pair of sandals near both the front and back door for quick trips outside, like checking the mail or filling the bird feeder.
As I stepped into my hiking sandals, something cool bunched up against the toes of my left foot. The left sandal happens to be the one with the loose lining, thanks to its most recent trip through the washing machine. So I didn’t think anything of it. But then, as I was about halfway to the tree (all of five feet) it suddenly didn’t feel like loose lining at all. A little too cool. A little too. . . wriggly.
So I took off my shoe, and a lizard scampered out. A very dazed and bewildered lizard, but apparently unharmed.
Cute little thing.