Happy Hatchday!
Thirteen years ago today, a teeny lizard was hatched who, two and a half years later, became known as Mikey.
Here he is, shortly after I got him in May 1999, sitting in the palm of my hand:
And here he is today, getting ready to shed:
I do not know what possessed him last night, but at 11PM, as I was about to go to bed, he climbed down from his bed, where he'd been sleeping for several hours, and started wandering. When I picked him up to put him back to bed, I realized he was quite 'full', and remembered that he hadn't pooped in the afternoon. I put him in his potty place, and eventually he let go with the second of the day's deposits (enough poop for a medium-sized dog, plus several ounces of urates). Then, instead of going back bed, he decided to eat again. After scarfing down another plate of food, off he went, roaming, trying to find a place.
Couch? No. On the lovely soft pillow under my desk that Stacy gave him? No. Please, Mike, on the couch? No again. Back to his own bed? Nuh-uh. He came down and roamed some more. Under the chair in the living room (as I enticingly held up the skirt for him to make it easier for him to crawl under there)? No. Under the living room couch? Nope. Back to his bed I put him again. Down he came again, as I wait to see if any of the still-up neighbors have called the police about the suspicious flashlight beam moving around in Melissa's house (because Melissa didn't want to wake up the tortoise or turtle who share the ig room with Mike). How about the den couch (third time's a charm, right?)? No way.
Apparently, deep in the part of the lizard brain known as Haven't Annoyed The Mommy Enough Today, we kept this up for over an hour. Well, Mike kept it up while I followed along, periodically rounding him up and putting him to bed in the ig room.
Now seriously past the time I needed to go to bed, I turned off all the lights and put him on the den couch again, covered by the flannel blankie his Auntie Juliette gave him, and I went to bed, only to have to get up again 20 minutes later as I hear the sh-sh-sh-shhh sound of Mike's tail coming down the hallway towards my bedroom.
Up I get, throw on a robe to protect my bare legs from said tail, and off we go to the ig room and his bed for the fifth? sixth? time in the past 90 minutes.
A half hour later, the sh-sh-sh-shhh of his tail is masked by the klump-klump-klump of Mike's feet as he comes tromping down the hallway. (It is fascinating how Mike can move soundlessly down the hallway, and what noise he chooses to make when he chooses to announce his approach.)
As the ambient room air temperature was within the okay range for him, I decided I'd give up if he chose to sleep under the bed, so I just lay there, waiting to see what he would do. He navigated around the furniture and shoes and stuff in the dark, went under the bed, and after moving around a bit under there, slept under the bed, with just his head sticking out from the corner of the bed, the dust ruffle draped around his neck.
Happy hatchday, brat!
Here he is, shortly after I got him in May 1999, sitting in the palm of my hand:
And here he is today, getting ready to shed:
I do not know what possessed him last night, but at 11PM, as I was about to go to bed, he climbed down from his bed, where he'd been sleeping for several hours, and started wandering. When I picked him up to put him back to bed, I realized he was quite 'full', and remembered that he hadn't pooped in the afternoon. I put him in his potty place, and eventually he let go with the second of the day's deposits (enough poop for a medium-sized dog, plus several ounces of urates). Then, instead of going back bed, he decided to eat again. After scarfing down another plate of food, off he went, roaming, trying to find a place.
Couch? No. On the lovely soft pillow under my desk that Stacy gave him? No. Please, Mike, on the couch? No again. Back to his own bed? Nuh-uh. He came down and roamed some more. Under the chair in the living room (as I enticingly held up the skirt for him to make it easier for him to crawl under there)? No. Under the living room couch? Nope. Back to his bed I put him again. Down he came again, as I wait to see if any of the still-up neighbors have called the police about the suspicious flashlight beam moving around in Melissa's house (because Melissa didn't want to wake up the tortoise or turtle who share the ig room with Mike). How about the den couch (third time's a charm, right?)? No way.
Apparently, deep in the part of the lizard brain known as Haven't Annoyed The Mommy Enough Today, we kept this up for over an hour. Well, Mike kept it up while I followed along, periodically rounding him up and putting him to bed in the ig room.
Now seriously past the time I needed to go to bed, I turned off all the lights and put him on the den couch again, covered by the flannel blankie his Auntie Juliette gave him, and I went to bed, only to have to get up again 20 minutes later as I hear the sh-sh-sh-shhh sound of Mike's tail coming down the hallway towards my bedroom.
Up I get, throw on a robe to protect my bare legs from said tail, and off we go to the ig room and his bed for the fifth? sixth? time in the past 90 minutes.
A half hour later, the sh-sh-sh-shhh of his tail is masked by the klump-klump-klump of Mike's feet as he comes tromping down the hallway. (It is fascinating how Mike can move soundlessly down the hallway, and what noise he chooses to make when he chooses to announce his approach.)
As the ambient room air temperature was within the okay range for him, I decided I'd give up if he chose to sleep under the bed, so I just lay there, waiting to see what he would do. He navigated around the furniture and shoes and stuff in the dark, went under the bed, and after moving around a bit under there, slept under the bed, with just his head sticking out from the corner of the bed, the dust ruffle draped around his neck.
Happy hatchday, brat!
posted by Melissa at 1:43 PM
5 Comments:
Happy Hatchday Mike!
From your lizard friends at the Paisley Cottage (Smirnoff, Jose Cuervo and Midori).
Crazy how they just get that wild hair and want to go where they want to go. I've found it's just easier to give up - under the couch? Knock yourself out. With your head and half your body wedged into a throw pillow cover on the sofa - sure, no problem. Let me get you a blanket. Crazy lizards...
Mikey is so cuuuute. Big or small. Given how smug we percieve them to be, I wonder what they're really thinking?
I found your site from a site with snake info. I saw the cutest little snake in my garden room and can't find an identity for him by photos. he had 4 lengthwise yellow stripes on black background. But none of the stripes went from his forehead then back, two stripes went from each side of his head (rather high) then two other stripes down his sides. I did not see what was on his belly. He looked like a baby and crawled up on some small plants as I started to water them and drank from drips on the stems. Then quickly left! Would you know what he may be?
The best folks for IDing your snake, Mary Kay, are the folks in your local herp societies. They will be familiar with the species in your area and can tell you about it's habits, etc. Another suggestion is to check out a field guide to reptiles and amphibians at the bookstore or library, or try out the E-Nature online field guides, using your zip code to narrow the field down.
Good luck!
My green iguana is going to 5 this year and it seems these days he's got the ladies on his mind.... [laugh] That and the hard veggies...especially your iguana salad. [chuckle] He bit me once (nothing bad) when he enter his first breeding season when he was 3, but since he has come in contact with other females and bigger males, he calm down a lot...back to his old sweet-self. Haha! Kindda reminds me of Mike! [chuckle]
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