Article published in the May 2019 issue of the BSM Beacon and July 2019 BSL Heron Herald.

First, a confession – the title above is not technically correct. It should in fact read Man vs. Cuban Brown Anole, but would you have paused to read the article if you had encountered that header? What we are talking about here are the cute little brown lizards which frequent Florida lanais and palmetto bushes and seem to thrive throughout the State. Virtually everyone calls them geckos, even if they are not – see accompanying article on Anolis sagrei for a better understanding of these diminutive lizards.

In our winter home we’ve learned to live in harmony with them for the most part. They come and go into our pool cage seemingly at will and only occasionally venture into the house and garage. I’ve found the handy Shopvac to be by far the most effective weapon in my arsenal for evicting those anoles brave enough to bridge our defenses. Most seem to survive the roller coaster style trip through the vacuum hose in good enough shape to scamper off after I open up the canister in the yard! Other friends have told me that they have had success blowing anoles out of the house using the same devise hooked up in reverse.

This tale is however about one anole slightly more crafty and skittish than the rest. It starts with a somewhat unusual request from friends. As background, we have been busy this winter thinning out the palmetto bushes in our yard after many frustrating years of trying to “manage” their growth. We’ve replaced them with more attractive and controllable plants. Friends of ours had expressed disappointment that they did not have any palmettos on their property and requested that we save a few for them. Happy to oblige, my wife Diane stacked some in a big box for a first delivery and then stuffed a few more into a mulch bag a few days later for a second batch. This bag was placed in the back of the SUV and duly delivered the following day. Later that day I jumped into the vehicle and came face to face with an anole that leaped from the seat to the floor and disappeared behind the accelerator pedal. He had obviously been hiding out in the palmettos which were transferred to the bag and then into the car. I was in a hurry so deferred his eviction until later. Overnight we left the car windows open hoping he would leave of his own accord.

The following day I had a similar experience. I was seated in the car and turned on the ignition. Out popped my new friend from the air conditioning vent on the dash giving me a disapproving glare for blowing cold air up his tail. I think this was the closest I’d ever been to one and I can confirm that they are fascinating looking creatures, but nowhere near as warm and cuddly in appearance as the Geico gecko. I turned off the car and dug out the Shopvac from the garage but by the time I returned he had made himself scarce. I headed down to the marina for some boat maintenance with my hitchhiker still onboard. After completing my tasks at the boat I returned to the car and there he was again, staring me down from the passenger seat. I was in the parking lot and away from power supplies and vacuums so decided to engage with him mano a mano – well perhaps not quite mano a mano as I did have a three foot dowel in my hand. I opened all four doors and the back hatch and then began trying to herd him toward an opening. It was an inelegant dance as I circled from door to door and he, slightly more agile and swift, evaded my every effort. Finally I saw an opportunity when he paused for a moment on the back seat. I slowly approached, bridged the dowel like a pool cue, assumed my best billiard shot pose, and popped him straight out the opposite side door where he ran off seemingly uninjured. After returning home and regaling all and sundry with my tale of daring do I was brought down to earth by one of our daughters who asked if I had called the shot.