Whatever the opposite of a fairy tale is – that’s what this is.

This is the the oddest sense of helplessness I have ever felt.

I come into the living room to discover Linus with his paws covering something, crouched in a ridiculously aggressive stance. The expression on his face makes it look like it might be an explosive. It turns out it’s much worse: a baby lizard.  After first jumping on the couch and yelling for my boyfriend all Olive Oyl style — Boyfriend, it’s worth mentioning, didn’t come downstairs to rescue me for quite some time, so I guess it’s a good thing it wasn’t really an explosive or an alligator or a robber or something, BF — I pulled it together and decided I could not watch as my cat mauled another animal. I grabbed a paper towel and went to battle with Linus, and Goose, whose little slow paws had now joined the spectacle.  I managed to free baby Geico from the claws of death, screaming whilst cringing and moving towards the nearest exit. I got him off the towel in one firm shake and closed the door. As I’m commending Linus on his hunting skills I peek out the window to watch my little good deed walk off into the sunset to live a full, mature life of twenty-four months. And just as I spot him take his first step, a way bigger, way grosser lizard comes out of nowhere and eats him! I could do nothing but watch. The bigger lizard was about three times larger than my bravery was going to take me tonight and so, I watched baby Geico die just seconds after I thought I’d saved his life. Boyfriend finally came down after he heard me yelling about cannibalism and gave a weak effort but the big lizard was as fast as he was hungry. Mother Nature is a jerk.

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