hunter kitty / gecko rescue
(Continuing on with a theme of recent posts).
I'm begining to regret not being stricter with Cypher when he was younger; I allowed him to bring "toys" in from outside, because it was cute and funny. So, all his life he's dragged stuff in through the cat door to play with, and I never really objected too much.
When he was very little it was leaves and little twigs and plastic ties - always plastic ties. They've always been his favourites. Flick one his way on a lino floor and he'll be happy for hours (or until he loses it under the fridge, whichever comes first).
As he got older the twigs became sticks and the leaves became branches. Eventually he became able to catch live prey, so I'd start to see moths, cicadas and, most often, weta.
He's now just passed his third birthday, and he's now fully developing as a hunter. I've written about the skinks and the birds, now in the last week he's brought in two mice. And, on tuesday evening, he brought in a lizard I didn't immediately recognise.
It wasn't a skink. It was larger, stronger and far faster. It's head was broader and flater, it's limbs further splayed. And it could climb - curtains, walls, even a wooden dresser: I'd never seen a skink climb that well. It was aggressive, too - arching it's back and opening it's jaws towards both me and the cat - skinks always run and hide, they don't fight back.
Fascinatingly, it was able to change colour. It would be one shade of brown as it climbed the curtain, then would alter slightly to match the darker shades of the carpet. Unfortunately it's camouflage was so good that we both lost it entirely, somewhere in the bedroom.
And, even more odd, later in the night I could hear it, chirping and clicking, from somewhere near the bed. I guess I can just feel fortunate that I have no fear or phobia of little crawling things: it didn't bother me at all that there was a live lizard somewhere in the room.
A few hours later, early on Wednesday morning the cat brought in *another* such lizard: I was able to intercept him quickly this time and able to examine the beastie more closely (before taking it back outside, of course). Checking over the interwebs, I'm pretty certain that it was a New Zealand Common Gecko; though it looked a bit like a Forest Gecko the habitat around my house didn't seem to suit that species. I'm relieved - at least it's not an endangered species. But, damn, I just wish Cypher would stop bringing them inside (especially late at night, when I'm trying to sleep).
* * *
He did find for me the gecko he'd lost in the bedroom though, this Friday morning. About six-thirty this morning he woke me as he leapt from where he'd been sleeping by my side onto the curtains. He tumbled to the floor, sprung back onto the bed, and took another leap. And hung there, claws slowly starting to rip the fabric. I quickly grabbed him, and lifted him off to prevent further damage, and saw the distinct shape of the gecko on the other side of the curtain. I was able to easily trap it this time, as I was wise to it's speed and camouflage this time, and checked the head and patterns to confirm that, yes, it appeared to be a Common Gecko. I spirited it outside, and placed it under some bushes, all the while the cat was continuing to bat the curtain, trying to provoke some movement from his prey.
'Cos, at the end of the day, he may be cute, he may be playful, he may be a natural predator - but he don't have opposable thumbs nor a developed frontal lobe. Mark another up for Scott and the lizards of Kingston, Wellington.
I'm begining to regret not being stricter with Cypher when he was younger; I allowed him to bring "toys" in from outside, because it was cute and funny. So, all his life he's dragged stuff in through the cat door to play with, and I never really objected too much.
When he was very little it was leaves and little twigs and plastic ties - always plastic ties. They've always been his favourites. Flick one his way on a lino floor and he'll be happy for hours (or until he loses it under the fridge, whichever comes first).
As he got older the twigs became sticks and the leaves became branches. Eventually he became able to catch live prey, so I'd start to see moths, cicadas and, most often, weta.
He's now just passed his third birthday, and he's now fully developing as a hunter. I've written about the skinks and the birds, now in the last week he's brought in two mice. And, on tuesday evening, he brought in a lizard I didn't immediately recognise.
It wasn't a skink. It was larger, stronger and far faster. It's head was broader and flater, it's limbs further splayed. And it could climb - curtains, walls, even a wooden dresser: I'd never seen a skink climb that well. It was aggressive, too - arching it's back and opening it's jaws towards both me and the cat - skinks always run and hide, they don't fight back.
Fascinatingly, it was able to change colour. It would be one shade of brown as it climbed the curtain, then would alter slightly to match the darker shades of the carpet. Unfortunately it's camouflage was so good that we both lost it entirely, somewhere in the bedroom.
And, even more odd, later in the night I could hear it, chirping and clicking, from somewhere near the bed. I guess I can just feel fortunate that I have no fear or phobia of little crawling things: it didn't bother me at all that there was a live lizard somewhere in the room.
A few hours later, early on Wednesday morning the cat brought in *another* such lizard: I was able to intercept him quickly this time and able to examine the beastie more closely (before taking it back outside, of course). Checking over the interwebs, I'm pretty certain that it was a New Zealand Common Gecko; though it looked a bit like a Forest Gecko the habitat around my house didn't seem to suit that species. I'm relieved - at least it's not an endangered species. But, damn, I just wish Cypher would stop bringing them inside (especially late at night, when I'm trying to sleep).
* * *
He did find for me the gecko he'd lost in the bedroom though, this Friday morning. About six-thirty this morning he woke me as he leapt from where he'd been sleeping by my side onto the curtains. He tumbled to the floor, sprung back onto the bed, and took another leap. And hung there, claws slowly starting to rip the fabric. I quickly grabbed him, and lifted him off to prevent further damage, and saw the distinct shape of the gecko on the other side of the curtain. I was able to easily trap it this time, as I was wise to it's speed and camouflage this time, and checked the head and patterns to confirm that, yes, it appeared to be a Common Gecko. I spirited it outside, and placed it under some bushes, all the while the cat was continuing to bat the curtain, trying to provoke some movement from his prey.
'Cos, at the end of the day, he may be cute, he may be playful, he may be a natural predator - but he don't have opposable thumbs nor a developed frontal lobe. Mark another up for Scott and the lizards of Kingston, Wellington.