More people seem to care about the Gecko in my pants than my ravings about politics in America. That's fine, I completely understand. Politics will always be the same, but a Gecko in your pants happens only once in a life-time.
It's been two months since the Gecko mysteriously appeared in my pants upon return from our trip to Arizona for a wedding. I have to admit that I have been lazy about updating those few that read this blog regarding what happened to the Gecko in my pants.
Call it denial or negation, but the reality is that I didn't want to think about it. I needed a grieving period, a few months to reflect. After creating a palace for our Gecko, it decided to run away from its new home. Yep, the Gecko is gone. Were we such bad parents?
Two months later, it still baffles us to think of how the Gecko got out and where it actually went? I had my worries one day before it vanished into thin air when it peeked around the corner of a sea-shell at me from its cage. Her eyes were telling me that this is not what she had in mind when she decided to investigate the depths of my pants prior to our departure for the airport. She was in a foreign territory, she was ready to make a run for the non-existent door.
I have to be honest. Taking care of the Gecko those first days was exhausting. So I had mixed feelings when we woke up the next morning and it was gone. I was surprised and confused and even sad, but also relieved because catching small knats with your hands and adjusting temperatures regularly and worrying was getting the best of me. I just wasn't ready to be a father yet.
We searched the whole house pretty thoroughly for the Gecko and could not find her anywhere. We looked in all the warm places and places with the best light and under things, in drawers, and in boxes with my old Star Wars toys. She was nowhere to be found. Our Gecko was the David Copperfield of the Gecko world. What to do? Well, we gave up.
But then began the questions from family and friends and the regret and the anxious moments when opening a drawer and searching for papers in a box, just waiting to see a dead baby Gecko frozen by the cooling temperatures of an approaching winter in Maine. But still nothing. Whatever the Gecko was doing, she was hiding pretty damn well and probably had already resigned herself to hibernating all winter in some nook or cranny of our house, hoping to find enough food to get through the long cold winter. Or, she never really existed. She was a figment of my imagination, a good story to tell my friends on Facebook? But I'm positive she was real! Wasn't she?
We took the palace our Gecko called home back to the pet store about a month after she disappeared. We held out for that extra month hoping she'd turn up or because we were just too lazy to face the kind staff people at the pet store who gave us free gadgets and provided us with an invaluable support system during the initial saga. We weren't able to return the stuff for cash since their two week return policy had expired, but we could buy anything in the store. The pet store guy said "that's too bad" upon hearing about the Gecko and walked away. He must have thought we were terrible parents or may be he was just frustrated for spending 30 minutes of his life talking me through building a habitat for a Gecko the size of a large ant. I tried to distract him from his thoughts about my predicament and asked for some warm doggy clothes for Tato, our Argentine dog, who also came with us on the plane, but from Argentina in June. We planned his travel with us though and he is still alive and doing great. So, we are actually good parents! Right?
So it's now December. Winter is here. Despite the passing time, we are still often reminded of the Gecko. Her hibernating worms are still in the refrigerator. Also, there are still knats and other small flies miraculously living in our house. Supposedly, when the cold winter arrives, these small insects are supposed to die or something, and yet, I'd be writing at the computer and one would land on my nail as if to tell me that the Gecko still lives. Our Gecko, if she is really still alive, has somehow used her powers to keep these insects alive so she can feed on them all winter. We have several spider webs without spiders in the corner of our walls that I have avoided cleaning away because just may be our Gecko is using them as a trap for her prey. Resourceful Gecko. I imagine our Gecko lurking around the house at night when we are all asleep, hunting her insects, building traps, and seeking out new warm places to rest and re-energize. If she is finding warmth in the heaters at night, should I tell her that Maine winters almost always freeze the pipes? Yep, this mystery of the resourceful and sly Gecko still intrigues us. She may appear after the winter three times her original size or we may find her resting peacefully somewhere having realized it was a bad idea trying to escape from her glass palace.
All I know is that the Gecko lives on, either in myth or in reality, and that I can't seem to get it out of my head.