It was the blue one. Fast, with good instincts and loads of luck, the blue one had a chance.

blue lizard

My uncle, Kevin, worked next door to what must have been a very insecure reptile house. He was fast and fearless so many, many escaped reptiles were captured and became our pets. Thanks to Kevin, in addition to kittens from neighbors and goldfish won at fairs, we acquired a random collection of lizards. My favorite was the large, brightly colored Italian geckos. Their vivid green and blue skin was so different from those we encountered on the trail. It had us imagining the turquoise Italian mountains that must have housed them. They were so striking here we assumed that they blended into their native habitat like our local dirt colored variety. My siblings and I really enjoyed the reptiles. They were fun to feed – live crickets – pretty in color and elegant in movement.

We were the only family we knew with snakes and lizards - a fact that barely registered to us but was vexing to my parents. Apparently, every year it was a major task to convince, cajole or beg some other family to care for our pets when we were away. One summer I guess it just got to be too much. It was time to set the reptiles free!

I don’t remember being too upset about releasing them. Of course, my siblings and I learned of this plan the night before vacation when we were almost to excited to think. They were cool but we’d had them a long time and my parents made a convincing ‘wild animal” case. So, we set them all free in the back yard.

Big mistake! The cats went crazy. They set about stalking with an enthusiasm matched only by my horror. Noooo! The lizards were BLUE! Where were they going to hide? They had no chance! I had to save them. I chased the cats like they chased the lizards but the cats were much better hunters.

We had 3 cats at the time and as I caught them I locked them in the house. Eventually I was down to just one – Muffin. When I spotted her she was wriggling along the ground, inching closer to the beautiful blue lizard. I ran. Muffin leapt. The blue lizard scurried under the house. It got away! The blue one got away! I caught Muffin, trapped her in my room and made sure no cats went outside all night, confident that the remaining lizard could escape to a safer, bluer environment while we slept.

buffalo

San Franciscan’s share an amazing back yard – Golden Gate Park. A beautiful place packed with unexpected features. Did you know there is a casting pond? A Model Boat Yacht Club? A garden where only plants that have graced the pages of Shakespere’s poems or plays are allowed to flourish? In my opinion, the most surprising and impressive attraction is the buffalo. Actually, they are bison but that doesn't sound nearly as impressive so we generally call them buffalo. Impressing is what we like to do around here.

To be fair, it is the fact of the buffalo’s existence in San Francisco that is interesting not anything the buffalo actually do. Buffalo behaviorists will tell you the tail is the key. For example the official golden gate park description of bison behavior includes this, “when the tail is in a relaxed position, the animal feels undisturbed” and "When the tail is slightly raised, the bison is displaying mild excitement.” And, if you get really lucky and see some action, “As the animal fills with nervousness, the tail will arch, often followed by a bowel movement.” Impressive.

Recently I toured the park with a few out-of-towners looking for a story to bring home and a few locals doing what we do. When we arrived at the buffalo the guests were suitably surprised and impressed – taking pictures, ohhing and ahhing and asking questions. Why are there buffalo? Are they native? Can we touch them? Have you ever had buffalo meat?

Proud of our local beasts we began to enlighten the visitors.

I regaled the guests with some history. "The paddock opened in 1892. It has been around for over 100 years! Originally the park was a 'free-range zoo' consisting of bison, bears, elk, goats, and many, many more animals."

Next, a neighbor demonstrated the political sensitivity of the city saying, "around the time the paddock was opened the great American Buffalo were close to extinction - on the verge of becoming a majestic memory. With the entire US herd at only 200,000, naturally I don’t eat buffalo meat!"

Not to be outdone, My sister mentioned that, "these particular buffalo are the descendants of a herd donated to the park in 1984 as a birthday gift for US Senator Dianne Feinstein who was San Francisco's Mayor at the time."

Finally, my brother in law added that they were cared for thanks to an endowment from Niel Young. (I’m pretty sure that one's not true)

Oh, the majestic buffalo!

Oh, the poor persecuted, endangered buffalo!

Oh, the buffalo with their powerful and famous friends!

Then my 3 year old niece, who was actually watching the buffalo said, “Buffalo. Like rocks”