The monster reveals itself

I knew it was a gecko!

I watched the little shadow emerge from behind the airconditioner and scuttle across the ceiling. I'm not sure what it's eating, but it's getting plenty. Georgi freaked out when it crawled down the wall behind her and looked at me through the glass. I tried communicating with it, but I don't speak the gecko dialect. It didn't respond to any of my gestures or facial expression. For all I know, it just wanted a staring contest.

I'm going to try to befriend it. It knows the secret to walking up walls, and I'm going to find out. If I could stick to the walls and ceiling, I could find out what's so exciting about the airconditioner, and what it is Lady Person hides on the top shelf of the cupboard. I could drop onto Guy Person's head when he's not expecting it! That'd be pretty damn funny.

Maybe I'd even find out where the bananas are kept. They're around here somewhere. No secret would be safe from... Wallfoot! Gluefoot, maybe? The Bug-Lizard... Buzzard? No. Super-hero names are hard.

I'll give it some thought.

Superly,
Mikey

Debris-ther

Guy Person led a noisy, odd-looking creature around the house today. I've seen it a few times before. It had a very long, flexible neck, and a crooked body in vibrant colours. It seemed quite intent on sniffing the floor.

What puzzled me most was its apparent lack of concern for the amount of debris it sucked up during its sniffing. The carpet was lovely and clean afterward, I'll grant you, but still, that can't have been pleasant. And imagine if I'd been wandering around at the time! Would it have simply inhaled me as well? I'm not as small as I used to be, so we would both suffer from such an encounter.

Glass walls can be advantageous for multiple reasons, and I'm grateful that Lady Person insists on my return to them.

Morbidly fascinated,
Mikey

Walking

I like my glass house, but from time to time, exercise seems prudent.

I went for a walk outside with Lady Person and Guy Person the other day. Lady Person carried me on her shoulder for most of it, which I didn't mind; she generates her own heat.

I explored a wooden path over a huge, odd-smelling pool and met the strangest creatures I've ever seen, floating around nearby. They looked like birds, but they could swim better than they could fly, and they begged bread from other people passing by. I tried too, but the people gave me odd looks. I must have had something on my face. How embarrassing.

I was surprised by how different the wood felt from my log. Maybe mine's just cleaner. Or not rotting. Ugh. Admittedly, I sat in my water bowl when I got back. I don't know how the dirt collects under my claws so quickly, and I don't want to know what else is hidden in the grime.

The oddest aspect of my ramble with my people is that I can't come up with a clever summary or deep insight about the world. I'm not sure I can even repeat my passionate monologue about the beauty and strangeness of the world. I moved through my walk wide-eyed and entirely passive. Then I returned to my heat rock and had a nap.

Warmly,
Mikey

Did you miss me?

My people have been ill, so I've barricaded myself under my rock. I have no intention of catching a human disease. Unfortunately I couldn't take the internet machine without it being noticed, but with one person away and the other asleep, I think I'm safe to make a quick post.

I've passed the time by considering the underprivileged lizards of the world who don't have carpet to walk on. Imagine having to drag one's stomach over rough terrain. What if a sharp stone were concealed under a thin layer of dirt? Dirt's bad enough without the deception! And then, when it rains, that dirt sticks to your scales as mud! The horror! Don't get me wrong, I like going out to eat pebbles from time to time too, but having to live out there? With the bugs?

Give me good soft carpet any day. It's nice on the underbelly, and provides plenty of traction for claws, so getting around is easy. It's usually dry and clean too.

Perhaps I should petition for carpet equality for lizards. Maybe it's time I took responsibility for the less fortunate, and tried to make their lives better. And why stop at carpet? Heat rocks, comfy logs, and pancakes for all lizards. I could even donate some of my coconut husk to provide a nice bed for someone.

What do you think? Would you sign my carpet equality petition? Who would I send it to?

Advocatingly,
Mikey

Inseparable Pursuits

When did the scientists become so separated from the artists?

I mentioned in my last post that I am an artist. Some folk wondered at this, since I have also claimed to follow a scientific persuasion.

Yes, I can be both. I am a philosopher, an explorer, a lover of good food, an occasional poet, and many other things beside. I am a scientist in that I always have to know what's under the couch, and an artist through my talents in getting there. Science and art can't be distinguished as separate entities. Without the creativity of art, science would stagnate and stall, while art without knowledge can never have a purpose, be it psychological, social, physical, or otherwise.

I am a thinker. I warm my brain every morning on my heat rock, and spend my days attempting to understand what I observe. Tell me: is that the life of a scientist or an artist?

I'll bet all of you are both too. You're all interested in the way the world works in some respect or other, as well as in expressing what you see and think. I challenge you to definitively explain if you believe you are an artist without science or a scientist without art.

Give me a brush, and I will paint the light, the life, and the glory that is made real by science. I will paint it well, as I love it for the beauty in the way it works. Explain to me the life of a butterfly, or the wonder of the stars, and I will listen with rapturous awe for the unimaginable creativity sustaining the universe. I will ponder for hours the perfection and struggles of the world.

I embrace the science of art and the art of science. All at once. And the world is amazing.

Ever-curiously,
Mikey

Smiling Without Lips

My lady person asked me this morning how to tell when I’m happy. She said mammals move their ears, wag their tails, twitch the skin of their faces into different expressions to show their state of mind.

As you can imagine, that isn’t my style. I move the skin of my face to open my mouth or close my eyes, but that’s about it. The idea of tail-wagging embarrasses me. And I don’t have external flaps of skin involved in my auditory senses. You could say I’m an artist of the minimalist expressionism genus.

I think Georgi likes me a little more now.

So, when am I happy? How do you tell? You don’t. You feed me fruit, or cheese, or pancakes, and I’ll either be happy to eat it, or I’ll leave it. If I’m asleep on my heat rock, I’m probably quite content.

This sharing of thoughts is quite new to me. I hope you’re all enjoying a non-human perspective; it may not be common. I hear web connection is difficult for creatures without thumbs. At least they can smile, I suppose. I don’t mind keeping my emotions behind my scaly armour, to be honest.

Perhaps keep this in mind: I am well-fed, warm, and comfortable. Whether you can see it or not, I’m smiling.

Confidingly,

Mikey

Bird Brains

I was hanging out with my people the other day while they were talking about birds.

I've never thought much of birds. They swoop around pretending they're cool and making unnecessarily repetitive (and often grating) sounds. They're always misplacing their feathers, and one even tried to rush me while I was outside in my wire pen. Admittedly, I was amused to watch it untangle itself from the mesh, but that doesn't make it any less stupid.

Apparently, this is not the case for all birds. My people were telling stories of birds solving puzzles, using keys, even communicating in the people's language without need of a keyboard and internet connection. One could reportedly order from the dinner menu, and insist on its people getting it right: a skill I would find moderately useful. Some birds are quite clever, it seems. I may need to re-evaluate my position regarding my flying distant cousins.

Or I may just need to watch a few more try to fly gracefully through a glass door.

Skeptically,
Mikey