We wandered around the shop 
and I waited as my friend 
tried to decide between 
a small orange-and-green lizard and a 
long-haired puppy, only a few weeks old. 
Which one will cost more? I asked. 
Dunno, he answered. 
The dog should only eat dog food, but I have to 
take him to the vet, get shots, get him house-trained... 
could be a real hassle. 
All the lizard does is lay on the heat rock and eat bugs. 
Sounds like a pretty easy choice to me, I said. 
He nodded, grabbed the little aquarium with the lizard 
inside and took it up to the counter, 
shelling out twenty-six dollars and seventy-three cents. 

A few days ago, I went to visit my friend. 
Marching up the back stairs, I looked through the 
kitchen window into the living room. 
Lying in front of the tv, watching Harry Caray sing 
"Take Me Out To The Ballgame" 
was a four-foot Gila monster, 
flicking his tongue into a bowl of popcorn and 
idly chewing on my friends leg, stuck between his jaws, 
the foot dangling off his lip. 
Quietly I stepped back down the stairs, 
slipped behind the wheel 
and thought, 
At least the dog wouldn't have been watching the Cubs.