That is the name of the lizard in the bathroom. It is no longer sitting, waiting for me, on the toilet seat, but it has graduated to the shower curtain. After a brief stint on the faucet. When I went to wash my hands, it jumped on my belly, onto my shoulder, then into my hair. And there it hid, somehow, for about thirty seconds. Then I whacked it’s tail and it leaped off onto the shower curtain. And there it stays, watching me in the morning as I get ready. I’m beginning to believe it is a perverted lizard. Therefore, it must be male. Therefore, it must be called Pocomor (poke-o-more). Do not ask me why, it makes no sense to me, either. Pocomor eats my mosquitoes for me.
March 9, 2011