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Ok, one more bit of randomness before I immerse myself in my book. I feel the need to explain the title of this LJ...
Puck was our lizard (well, sort of). About a week before I moved in with Ian (and about 4 days before my surgery), Ian called and asked me how I felt about lizards. Apparently he agreed that we would foster parent a 5 foot iguana named Puck while Puck's Dad, Mark, was in the Americorp (sp?). Apparently Mark's parents said they'd kill Puck if he was left with them, so "there was no other option."
Now, Puck and I didn't get along at first, I banished him (and his 6 foot high wire cage) to the third bedroom (which became known as Puck's room) and refused to feed him. I'll be honest, he freaked me out. Of course, this was also around the time that we discovered that if I take enough vicodin I eventually get like an angry smack junkie - so I might have been a bit unfair to him.
Eventually, Puck was allowed out of his room, and he moved into the living room. He was a great addition at parties, people either had to come in and visit him or were scared away - now if only we could have trained him to scare away certain people.... The downside to being a foster mom is that somehow, I ended up with poop duty - mostly because I'd get grossed out before Ian did, and would clean it up. Yuck. But, I did learn the many moods of Puck, and I swear, we could have entire conversations just by eye gaze - to this day, he was the most intelligent animal I've ever lived with. And, often he would get this funny vaguely bored and yet mischievous look in his eye, which we termed "Puckish".
One night, for fun, Ian decided Puck needed some time out of his cage. I've been told that Mark used to do this all the time, so therefore it should be safe enough. Anyway, Puck got himself out and started walking around the living room - SCARED THE CRAP OUT OF ME! I don't like the way lizards move horizontally - I'm down with the vertical climbing, but the horizontal is just undulating creepiness. He headed straight for the kitchen, only to discover he had no traction on the linoleum - the Ian had to chase him back to the living room with a broom after Puck tried to head into my room. Back in the living room, Puck headed straight for a corner, and just stared at it for a while. I think he needed to chill out. Then he climbed up the end table, over the phone and tried to crawl up the table lamp, which promptly fell over on top of him. Not liking that, he sprang for the window sill where he hung out for a while - but apparently, he got cold and headed back toward his cage. Except this time, he crawled up the outside of his cage and up on top of the light fixture on top of it. He looked like Godzilla conquering the cage when he came up over the back of that light. Now comes the fun part - Puck's been out of his home for about 2 hours, and it's pushing 2am, and I'm tired. Then Ian tells me that if Puck doesn't get back in his cage and he cools off, he'll come find the first warm human he can and curl up on them to keep warm! At that, I informed Ian that if Puck doesn't end up back in his cage before he goes to bed, he can *#&$^% @*$&%^# @*#&$^@ @@&$^%*# (you get the picture). And I went to my room, locked the door, and went to bed. Apparently Ian got him back inside his cage around 4ish.
We never let him out of the cage again - too risky. But I did enjoy his company for the better part of a year. I miss Puck. He was diagnosed with leukemia shortly after he was returned to Mark, and passed away.
Puck was our lizard (well, sort of). About a week before I moved in with Ian (and about 4 days before my surgery), Ian called and asked me how I felt about lizards. Apparently he agreed that we would foster parent a 5 foot iguana named Puck while Puck's Dad, Mark, was in the Americorp (sp?). Apparently Mark's parents said they'd kill Puck if he was left with them, so "there was no other option."
Now, Puck and I didn't get along at first, I banished him (and his 6 foot high wire cage) to the third bedroom (which became known as Puck's room) and refused to feed him. I'll be honest, he freaked me out. Of course, this was also around the time that we discovered that if I take enough vicodin I eventually get like an angry smack junkie - so I might have been a bit unfair to him.
Eventually, Puck was allowed out of his room, and he moved into the living room. He was a great addition at parties, people either had to come in and visit him or were scared away - now if only we could have trained him to scare away certain people.... The downside to being a foster mom is that somehow, I ended up with poop duty - mostly because I'd get grossed out before Ian did, and would clean it up. Yuck. But, I did learn the many moods of Puck, and I swear, we could have entire conversations just by eye gaze - to this day, he was the most intelligent animal I've ever lived with. And, often he would get this funny vaguely bored and yet mischievous look in his eye, which we termed "Puckish".
One night, for fun, Ian decided Puck needed some time out of his cage. I've been told that Mark used to do this all the time, so therefore it should be safe enough. Anyway, Puck got himself out and started walking around the living room - SCARED THE CRAP OUT OF ME! I don't like the way lizards move horizontally - I'm down with the vertical climbing, but the horizontal is just undulating creepiness. He headed straight for the kitchen, only to discover he had no traction on the linoleum - the Ian had to chase him back to the living room with a broom after Puck tried to head into my room. Back in the living room, Puck headed straight for a corner, and just stared at it for a while. I think he needed to chill out. Then he climbed up the end table, over the phone and tried to crawl up the table lamp, which promptly fell over on top of him. Not liking that, he sprang for the window sill where he hung out for a while - but apparently, he got cold and headed back toward his cage. Except this time, he crawled up the outside of his cage and up on top of the light fixture on top of it. He looked like Godzilla conquering the cage when he came up over the back of that light. Now comes the fun part - Puck's been out of his home for about 2 hours, and it's pushing 2am, and I'm tired. Then Ian tells me that if Puck doesn't get back in his cage and he cools off, he'll come find the first warm human he can and curl up on them to keep warm! At that, I informed Ian that if Puck doesn't end up back in his cage before he goes to bed, he can *#&$^% @*$&%^# @*#&$^@ @@&$^%*# (you get the picture). And I went to my room, locked the door, and went to bed. Apparently Ian got him back inside his cage around 4ish.
We never let him out of the cage again - too risky. But I did enjoy his company for the better part of a year. I miss Puck. He was diagnosed with leukemia shortly after he was returned to Mark, and passed away.
