6 Word Stories

Reptile rescue. Frigid forecast. Chameleon crisis. 

In a work week that wrapped up with Friday night Creative Writing club, where we focused on 6 word stories, it only seemed appropriate to write my own. It's a sad one. Ernest Hemingway, the man of the unused baby shoes, would be proud. Sadly. In a week that presented its fair share of Moroccan challenges, the biggest was sending Katrina off to her little spice box in the sky.

That little chameleon wriggled and crawled her way into my heart in the short 11 days that we managed to keep her alive. As the apartment got colder and the skies turned grayer, Katrina decided to go on a hunger strike. I never imagined that, at 48, I would be excitedly trapping flies and pulling off their wings in an effort to force-feed a reptile. She was having none of it, and her sharp-clawed grip got weaker and weaker each day.

Yesterday, in a full-blown panic, I found myself on the phone with a vet explaining in French that I had a sick chameleon that needed attention. With my day packed with meetings and classes, Andy could see my desperation and rose to the occasion. He valiantly agreed to be the bicycle ambulance driver and transport my ailing sweet pea to the vet for emergency resuscitation efforts despite the fact that the vet did not speak English and it seemed a little odd to be bringing in an emaciated chameleon. He pedaled 30 minutes in the rain to the chameleon whisperer only to open the little spice box at the vet's office to reveal a lifeless reptile. He packed her back up and headed home. Obviously distraught, he proceeded to take a tumble of his bike into traffic. Only mildly bruised, he made his way home to recover from this upsetting afternoon. Brianna greeted him there, and he shared the sad news. She opened the spice box for one last glimpse of Katrina, and Katrina opened her eye and winked at her. She hustled Andy back out the door to the vet again.

This time, the vet saw my barely-alive baby and went into Mr. Miyagi mode. He captured a fly within seconds and force-fed it to Katrina. She stared at him with what I can only imagine was reluctant exasperation. She was obviously intent on finishing things off on her own terms, but she would play the vet's game if necessary. In those short eleven days, I very much came to understand my chameleon's attitude.

By the time I made it home from Creative Writing club, I was prepared for the worst. I listened to Brianna and Andy recount the tales of the afternoon vet adventure, and I was pleased to find Katrina relaxing in a steam sauna that Brianna had created for her on the counter. She weakly crawled around, rolled her eyes at me, and humored me by cuddling on my hat like the olden days.  Then, today, she closed those little eyes for the last time and chose the spice box in the sky.

Small scaly lizard creates crocodile tears.