Every day’s a thrilling new adventure when you’re a gringa living in Cali, Colombia.
When I was young, my family and I always had cats. Since we lived in the country, they’d come and go from the house as they pleased.
Our cats, like most, loved to hunt. So, it wasn’t uncommon to stumble upon offerings of mice, moles, birds, and squirrels left on the doormat, typically decapitated, always gross, never shocking.
Recently, I had a similar, yet notably different, experience in my new Colombian home, reminding me I’m still a stranger in this exotic land.
Comfortably writing in my hammock, I noticed the dog excitedly pursuing a tiny creature skittering across the floor.
Approaching cautiously to inspect, I shrieked, surprised and excited to find a tiny green lizard.
My husband grunted, acknowledging the proclamation of my find. As a native Caleno, he wasn’t nearly as intrigued. But my curious 13-year-old stepdaughter came to witness the commotion, less interested in the lizard than my overly excited reaction, I’m sure.
Shooing the dog away, I crouched to share my discovery.
“That’s weird. He doesn’t have a tail,” I said, inspecting the lizard, apparently too shocked to run away.
She responded sincerely, “Oh yeah. . . the dog probably pulled it off.
Revolting. But knew these lizards could break off and regrow their tails— a curious adaptation for swiftly escaping predators and occasional curious canines.
She pointed behind me and exclaimed, “Oh yeah, there it is!”
I turned and spotted the teeny, green tail directly behind me, STILL WIGGLING! It squirmed as if attempting, in vain, to pursue its former body.
I shouted in horror, “It’s moving!” while hopping and flailing, attempting to rid myself of the repulsive image of the dead, yet animated, appendage.
My stepdaughter, finding my gringa reaction hilarious, snatched up the twitching tail and chased a screeching me through the house with it.
This incident served as a striking reminder of how much I’ve yet to learn about life in Colombia. Though I generally think of myself as critter-tolerant. I’ve realized I can still be unmoored by the new ones I’ll encounter here. Still, I’ll take a tailless lizard in the house over a mouse any day.
BLEW WRITING LLC 