There are those things in ordinary life that can be viewed metaphorically. Geckos are of course commonplace here and they will inevitably show up in the house occasionally. In general, you can manage to scoot them back out the door. The other night, I noticed one that had emerged from under the sideboard in the kitchen. I tried to get him up on a folded piece of paper, but he was too quick and darted back under the furniture. I said at the time, “I wish you would let me rescue you.” Hubby said, “Don’t worry, he can probably get enough to eat,” or something to that effect. Okay, the next day, the gecko emerged again and my second attempt to corral him was no more effective as he disappeared quite quickly. Still not being able to speak gecko, I assured him I only had his best interest at heart. Day three, I came downstairs and he had moved from the kitchen into the front room where he was on a clear, although long path to the front door if only I could keep him moving forward. Rather than try the scooping up (which hadn’t worked), I got the broom hoping to gently “herd” him out. The first few “sweeps” were working and then it became obvious, he was weakening. By the time I did get him to the front door and what I perceived as safety, he was obviously not in good shape. He basically collapsed on the welcome mat outside and keeled over.
In all fairness to the gecko, his response to me was normal. I was a great big thing and he had every reason to believe I intended him harm. It was exactly the opposite, but there was no way to convey that. Was he already ill and therefore would have expired no matter what? I don’t know. Was my good intention completely misplaced? Had I left him alone, would he have survived in the house and eventually made his way outside? I don’t know. Should I continue with the metaphor and delve more deeply into it? No, but anyone else is welcome to do so.
By the way, if you’ve never had a chance to roam through my short story collection on the website, please do. “A Gecko in the Umbrella” is a fun one. http://charliehudson.net/stories/story200604.html