Animal planet.

I just had a showdown with a 2-inch gecko. In my house. I think it shimmied in under the front door. I saw it on the wall in the stairwell and brought George Michael (cat, not pop star) in on the case. As his owner, I feel responsible for teaching him the ways of the world. And I thought he would be an efficient killing machine (God knows his claws and fangs are sharp enough), but he wasn't. He just batted it around for a while, and I started to think a) this is kinda mean and b) what if he brings it on my bed?

So I put on my thinking cap to devise a way to trap the gecko and release it, just as my friends in PETA--and Jesus, of course--would want. WWMFiPaJD? I considered going the same route as David Sedaris when he found a mouse in his house (with hilarious results!). But instead, I got a cup and a piece of paper. I dropped the cup over the little guy, which sent GM into a frenzy. It was like he was looking at the day's special through the glass of a display case. Then I slipped the paper underneath and viola! A makeshift cage.

I swear I could see its little cold-blooded heart beating through its translucent skin.

I took it outside and removed the glass cage. Run free, I encouraged it. GM stood in the doorway, as menacing as a cougar. I tried to shake the gecko off the paper, but nothing doing. You know, what with the magnetic hair on the bottom of geckos' feet that allows them to climb stuff. So I tried to prod it off the paper with the edge of the cup. Well, that only severed its tail. Oopsies.

In the end I managed to force it off the paper and into the grass, right near its still wriggling tail. GM is furious I decreased his kill record and I'm sure I'll pay for it later, but I feel good about what I did for America tonight.