This little blue tongued lizard took a walk on the tame side and ended up under my bed and then a little further into the walk in closet.
Who are you gonna call? Not the RSPCA, they don’t do healthy animals. Not Fauna Rescue, they help everything from microbats to possums but no mention of reptiles. So you call your student who owns Reptile City, find he is unavailable and then you arm yourself with bacon, grapes and a spatula. The grapes are for it, just in case it was a vegetarian. The spatula was for courage. Eventually patience paid off. Little Bluey is united with the great outdoors and I can finally take a break.
I will add lizard whisperer to my resume later on.
My non-Aussie friends might think I live with David Attenborough (I wish I did too), but this was yesterday’s find. This red fanged, eight eyed, zebra legged freak is the Badge Huntsman. It is not inside the house, but sitting on the outside of the patio door keeping every loving eye on our activities.
My kids are struck by the difference in responses to a recent blue tongue lizard post on Facebook.
Local gardening group friends told me to grab it gently behind the neck, stroke it under the chin, feed it a spoonful of rum and of course, release it.
Friends from the old motherland asked if I was going to kill it, whether it was a snake and thought I ought to get some sort of bravery award. And yet in each other’s eyes, one is the land of the fierce tiger while the other has its cute kangaroos, cuddly koalas and fluffy wombats. And the Badge Huntsman. Which shows a ‘cling’ reflex when handled and having clung, then bites to give you local pain and irregular pulse rates.
Australia, beautiful one day, spiders the next!