Suburban critters

The cat makes love to the vacuum cleaner.

In the pre-dawn darkness, not even the stampede of the dogs toward the back door will roust him from his spot on the vacuum.

Odd pet behavior is never good.

I fumble for the light switch and notice he's got something trapped under his paw.
Something that wriggles.
I pause, then go get a couple of pieces of toilet paper to investigate (if you have pets, you'll recognize the need to never pick anything up with your bare hands) and take it into the bright bathroom lights.

It moves like something in the throws of death. A worm, maybe?
Nope. Then it dawns on me.
It is about an inch-and-a-half of a tail from either a lizard or a skink.
I flush it down the toilet and now it's my mission to find the rest of it.
I moved the vacuum and a tiny skink slithers toward the step into the hallway. I gently put a thumb on the body and pick it up. It rests quietly on the back of my hand.
And it has its tail.
I've got hatchlings. Tiny lizards or skinks - at least two.
In the house.
The flower/herb beds in the front of the house are full of these things. Light coral colored, with a black and gray stripe down the body, like a Checker Cab. As they get older - the biggest one I've seen is about 10 inches long - the body turns reddish.
I open the front door and put the skink into the mint and it slithers off.
And go back to search for the other skink. Or others.
A 15-minute search turns up nothing.
I just hope the cat didn't eat the damn thing.
'Cause you know something like that is going to naturally come back up.