Lizard

Lizard- noun- any of numerous reptiles of the suborder Sauria or Lacertilia, characteristically having a scaly, elongated body, movable eyelids, four legs, and a tapering tale.

There I stood, mid-thigh deep in the Edisto River.  Cooper was on his leash, splashing around and just generally acting like this was the best day of his life.  I had come to this place for a change of pace for the weekend, and it was wonderful.  Peace and happiness would be mine for the remainder of this moment.

We had taken a mini-road trip (it's not a road trip unless it's at least an hour away) to a local state park.  I wanted to go hiking, and I knew Cooper would appreciate a long walk AND a car ride.  So I packed a lunch and we piled into the car, and half an hour later we were at the foot of the nature trail, ready to head out.

The trail was small and not the most well-marked path I had ever been on, so half of my attention was focused on where I was going.  Also, I have yet to buy bug spray, so the rest of my attention was on the mosquitoes swarming around my uncovered, unprotected arms.  Suddenly, my focus shifted as the dog bolted ahead, then jumped to the side, and finally ended up behind my legs, pushing me forward.

Let me just say, there are a million creepy crawlies in this state that I am unfamiliar with, and I consider them all venomous until proven innocent.  Whenever I'm somewhere new, I'm always fearful that they are hiding nearby, waiting to strike.   So upon watching my normally "chill" dog flip out, a number of thoughts raced through my mind.  Included among these thoughts were: "Don't scream, there's no reason to panic.  Wait, maybe I should scream, so when the snake bites me, someone will have come running to my rescue and we can get to the hospital faster.  Where is it?  What is it?  Why did my dog push ME towards the killer boa constrictor, aren't dogs supposed to be man's best friend and protect me?!"  Yeah.  I'm all about panicking for no reason.

Finally I spotted the little offender.  It was a green anole whose sunbathing we had interrupted, and Wonder Dog had been startled by the little guy's acrobatic leaps from stair to tree to nearby log.  Seeing this, I was thankful, because anoles are pretty harmless little guys.  In fact, just this morning I watched one crawl across my patio, drink some standing water, and then show off his little red throat fan.  I actually will go so far as to call them cute.  So with an annoyed sigh, I summoned my questionably faithful companion (who was now urinating on a tree) and continued on down the path.

About an hour later we finished our hike with the only additional wildlife encounter being a bright red cardinal who was picking the forest floor for something.  Upon finding out that there was a river nearby (my geographical knowledge of this state is pitiful), I took Cooper on down toward the bank so we could relax in the shade.  It turned out to be the best idea of the day, as I got to sit and eat lunch while watching a Hispanic church have their Easter service right there by the river, baptizing a few members and singing beautiful songs I didn't understand except for the word "Hallelujah."   It was quite wonderful.

This brings us back to the beginning of this story.  After the church group headed towards their picnic area, several of us who had been hanging back waded into the river.  I was enthralled with the soft sand under my feet and the beautiful scenery around me, and Cooper was literally diving into the water after leaves.  It was even more amusing when he realized his feet couldn't touch the bottom anymore, because rather than dog paddle back towards shore, he did a wave motion jump to try and move around.

A couple of younger girls were wading nearby and came over to pet Cooper.  Through the course of conversation, I mentioned that we had never visited this particular park before.  One of the girls and her mother started pointing out the various features of the park.  The next words out of the girl's mouth ended these peaceful moments I've been describing.  As we stood there, enjoying the water, the girl said, "And look, there's ONE of the alligators."

I don't know about you, but I do not swim with alligators.  Immediately I dragged Cooper out of the water, covering the ten feet to shore in record time.  The girl and her mom both laughed at my alarm, but were kind enough to take me to a safe viewing area and point out the beast.  "Don't worry, they don't bother us, but I wouldn't let your dog around him."  As I was clearly still concerned, the mom's reassuring words were, "Just give it a little space and think of it as nothing more than a big lizard, and you'll be just as comfortable swimming here as the rest of us."  

I gave a pleasant thank you and good-bye and headed back towards the car.  On the way back, I kept thinking about my "lizard" encounters for the day, laughed at the outrageous scenarios of each one, and decided that I will take anoles over alligators any day.

Now, safely back on dry land, it's time to go make some "Easter dinner" foods and make some preparations for my visiting relatives who will be here soon.  Yay!  Have a wonderful week, and be thankful that there are no alligators in River Styx.