All of a sudden, Mr. Lizard took her by surprise for he jumped high up onto the right arm of her jacket. His left hand clasped the string of her hood and his other hand and feet grabbed on tight. She didn't know quite what to make of it so she she just walked into the house and sat on the couch and let him cling to her arm. Dinner was in the oven but she turned the oven off and forgot about dinner. She didn't care about anything but Mr. Lizard.
He would still be clinging to her arm now if she could have been sitting there this long! She eventually slid her arm out of the jacket and left him on it, still clinging to the drawstring. She placed him on a flat pillow on a towel on her jacket and she proceeded to sleep on the couch next to him all night. She was sure he was dying he was so still and silent. She prepared to bury him up on the trail with my ashes the next morning, which was Saturday.
By the way I don't know much about cameras and colors but many photos of Mr. Lizard have purple clouds in them. Maybe it was just the reflection from her jacket, or maybe it was something else.
One week in early March Spring broke through. The sun came out and warmed the earth and the trees. It awakened the birds and the bees. Buds started forming on branches and there were even blossoms on the peach trees. She had been healing little by little from the losses. She still had far to go. She wondered if Spring was awakening Lizard too.
It was a Friday night and she was in the mood to stay home, but she had to mail a package at the post office to go out by morning. She got into her car, drove to the post office, ran a couple more errands and returned home. As she drove up the road and approached the house she saw something light-colored on the blacktop ahead of her. "Is that what I think it is?" she asked herself. She jumped out of the car and examined what was lying on the road.
It was Mr. Lizard. He wasn't moving. He wasn't squashed. He hadn't been hit by a car. But he was injured somehow and had been crossing the road, heading right towards our house. He was only a few feet away from our driveway. She ran inside and got some cloths and tools. She came back and pulled his webbed feet off the blacktop just as she had pulled them off the cinder blocks on the fireplace.
He wasn't moving at all. She studied him closely. He looked older. His scales and his body were intact but his eye looked like it had been pecked out by a bird or something. The left side of his face was caved in and had blood on it and he had blood all around the edges of his mouth. She knew enough about medical stuff that if they bleed this way they may have internal bleeding that is fatal. Her tears began to flow again. Losing him somehow brought back a lot of the pain and sadness of losing me and her father too.