There’s a story about a fisherman running low on bait and! He spots a snake! With a frog in its mouth!
So he grabs the snake, shakes it over the bait box ’till it drops the frog, now he’s stuck with an angry snake in his hand.
After thinking about this he grabs his bottle of whisky, pulls the cork with his teeth, and pours a dram or two down the snake’s throat, releases the snake.
Ten minutes later something taps on his foot… yes, the snake, with another frog.
And I’m telling you this because why Misty came in with a gecko, we took the gecko, gave him a fishy.
Second time it happened, we joked about the fisherman.
Third time it happened, we stopped joking about it.
Hang on, gotta go, cat just came in with something in his mouth…
I grew up with a kitty named Misty. She’s since scampered off to Rainbrow Bridge; glad yours is still with you