So there he was. Basking in the sunlight, a typical garden skink, no more than twenty centimetres in length. I ran inside to get the camera and when I got back to the garden, he hadn’t moved. But I only had one chance to take a shot – as soon as the shutter stirred the little lizard scurried away into the bushes.
Jonesy, my oldest cat, sat nearby the whole time, watching me in bewilderment. It wasn’t until the skink moved after I took the photograph that Jonesy finally realised what was going on. He leapt into the garden and spent the next two hours fossicking for the lizard. He never caught it.
Later, I returned outside and found Jonesy asleep in the garden bed. He seemed exhausted. I keep telling him to let the ecology do its thing – that all little creatures have a purpose. But he just can’t help himself with those lizards.