Last night at bedtime, I was taken aback by a rather large (4"?) wobbly-running creature in our dining room that Robert identified as a house gecko before it ran under the sofa. (We each independently had the first impression along the lines of "Is that the world's biggest silverfish or ...?" OK, my first reaction was actually to be startled and afraid.) We've had lizards that lived for a long time in our old apartment and I'm not bothered by the idea of it, as long as they can avoid appearing in the open areas of the apartment as I am walking around barefoot.
Wikipedia has a nice close up photo of a house gecko on someone's balcony in Austin, doing a public service that at least one of my readers can truly appreciate.
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8 comments:
If house geckos eat spiders, then it is probably a good thing you have one in your apartment - assuming you get spiders once in a while.
And, yes, I can appreciate a spider eating gecko!
Yeah, I have my own personal Great Chain of Being that elevates small creatures that eat bugs (and qualify against some other criteria, such as being less disgusting than bugs, leaving me basically alone, etc.) as just fine as housemates.
So geckos>spiders>insects.
Eating anything the size of a gecko is just gross, though, so I guess the chain has to stop there, right?
That's a cool sighting.
In food chain terms, cats>geckos>spiders>insects.
Yes, but I'm speculating that cats can't be admired for their gecko-eating skills because eating a gecko in the house is too disgusting.
Ugh, yeah, anything gecko-sized or larger I would just as soon not see eaten in my apartment. It might be admirable in a barn cat to eat mice, but this doesn't thrill me to see in my domicile.
Humphrey did a great job tracking a small field mouse that found its way inside. He did not attempt to catch or eat it, but he was pivotal to us catching and releasing it outdoors.
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