Taking a dive for a lizard

I put a bowl over him, slid a piece of cardboard under it, and proceeded to carefully pick up the bowl.

And then I fell.

I don’t know how this happened, but I immediately calculated the outcomes. If I put my hands down to catch myself 1) the bowl would break 2) the lizard would escape and possibly run over my body or 3) I might end up squishing the lizard.

I didn’t want any of those things to happen (particularly the last two-Ewww) so I didn’t put out my hands to break my fall. I took the hit and rolled on the floor, still clutching the bowl-full-of-lizard to my chest.

Then I had a second problem. I didn’t think I could get up without 1) falling again or 2) releasing the lizard.

I lay there on the kitchen floor like that lady in the Life Alert commercial, calling to my husband, but I knew even as I yelled his name that he wouldn’t hear me. He was on the second floor and could sleep through an apocalypse.

I finally managed to get up without releasing the lizard and put it outside, where it happily scurried away.

I’m still bruised and have a crick in my neck.

But here’s the thing, I’ve always believed that if you love and sacrifice for an animal, in the next life, it will be yours. When I die, I expect to be greeted by a lot of cats, dogs, and hamsters…and now a lizard. Because I took a dive for that thing.