My son has caught a blue-headed lizard. Actually the cat caught it first and he and the Rottweilers confiscated it. The cat has to fight to keep his prey these days: recently our cleaner's granddaughter told me with relish -- not registering my guilty horror -- that Gogo had taken a bird from the cat to cook for supper.
They're not cute things, blue-headed lizards. Jack Russell-size, prehistoric to look at. I can see their attraction though, for a four-year-old dinosaur lover.
"Look, Mum," he says, poking the lizard with a stick. (Why do small boys love sticks?). "It's bleeding everywhere, even from its eyes."
"Let's keep it as a pet."
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