De-tailed a Gecko Today

It's about a 20-minute walk to our new office but this morning Kirsty called a drop taxi to take us because she was on a deadline for an assignment for the headquarters in the U.S. and was feeling sick and didn't want to endure the walk. A dangerous downward hike with abundant vicious stray dogs, it's more comparable to a scene from a SuperMario game, upon reflection. I accepted her offer to share the taxi.

As we waited for the taxi, Kirsty was sitting on the tile floor of our bare-since-the-office-move living room and attempting to bring our internet back to life. I went out to the balcony to survey the weather. A bit dreary today, but I love it when the color of the sky blends into the ocean. We have such an amazing view.

While letting myself back into our apartment I saw a dark object on the ground out of the corner of my eye. To my surprise it wasn't the side effects of my malaria prophylaxis playing tricks on me this time - it was a gecko.. and it's tail. I had stepped on it accidentally and de-tailed it! The tail was squirming feverishly as if it had a mind of its own and could feel the pain of being severed from its host, which had scampered up the wall into the corner. I shrieked at the sight of the living tail and jumped and reacted in a variety of girly ways to such a sight and ran down the hallway away from the thrashing dismembered tail and then back up the hallway to see if it had stopped moving (it hadn't) and ran down the hallway and back up again until I realized someone was going to have to deal with the tailless gecko on the wall.

Kirsty, still sitting on the ground with our internet modem and wires galore with her back to the action but neck cranked around, was silently watching the whole scene.

My eyes remained on the thrashing tail as I begged her to take care of the gecko because I was too traumatized from de-tailing it. She got up from the ground and walked over to the corner he was hiding in. I ran into the kitchen to get a plastic container for her to capture him in. As she made several attempts to cup him against the wall, I searched our bare living room for a lid she could slide over the top. (Capturing geckos in our apartment is no rare feat for either of us.)

"Aha! Got cha," Kirsty said triumphantly. I brought over a few papers from our recycling box as the lid.
"That won't be enough," she said looking from the papers to the gecko, who was throwing his body into the walls of the container. "We need a big stack of papers."

I grabbed a few more dusty papers from the cardboard box and handed them to her. She slid the stack against the wall slowly underneath the container and then brought the container right-side-up away from the wall. I opened the balcony door for Kirsty to set him free. Free and tailless. Sorry, buddy.

She let herself back into the apartment. "Our driver is here," she said and handed me the plastic container. I was staring at the tail, which had slowed down but still had a bit of life left in it. I put the container over the tail, grabbed my bag and left with Kirsty for work.

Two days later, my gecko returned. Kirsty spotted him at our kitchen window and pointed him out to me. "He's come back for his tail!" I said, laughing.