Walking through the kitchen to get a soda mid-day. Wait – what’s that out on the porch?
First of all, is it dead? It looks dead… Nope, it twitched. Is it dying? (And please excuse the Dodgers doormat out there. We’re really NOT that sort of people1 But when we moved in the landlord said it had to stay and three years later I still haven’t figured out if he was joking or not.)
I don’t want to move because he’ll bolt, but let’s use the zoom on the iPhone a bit.
Yep, he’s alive, and alert now that he knows I’m here. But he’s not tearing off across the yard and up the tree like he’s training for the Olympics.
This is definitely the closest I’ve ever seen him come up to the house. And he never lounges up on the porch. So what’s up?
When I posted his first lounging photo a few days ago, long-time follower of this blog Jemima Pett thought that it might be because when it got really hot, the concrete in the shade might still be cooler than the air and the critters would do it to stay cooler. That makes sense, but it would still be the first time that I’ve ever seen it. And today wasn’t “stupid hot,” just in the mid 90’s, when we’ve had plenty of days up above 110°, or even 120°. Maybe he was lounging by the pool at the neighbors house on those days, but now they’ve gotten a dog and we’re a pale, pathetic substitute.
I just hope this little beastie doesn’t figure out we’ve got the A/C on inside or he’ll be making a dash for the door when it opens. I don’t even want to think about all of the screaming, crying, and panic that would follow.