There's a First Time for Everything

Late one afternoon last week D and I were lazily lounging in the pool without a care in the world when we heard a commotion emanating from the house next door.  Being the inquisitive types that we are (translate nosey) we were compelled to investigate.  Katie (of K K K Katie photo fame) and her parents were standing on their dock talking excitedly and pointing to a large object floating in the water.   I gasped in shock at the sight I beheld.  In ten years of living on Marco I have never witnessed such a thing.

This big ole daddy was cruising the waters of our canal.  Meandering along in ultra slow gear and generally ignoring the excited humans on the dock.  Manatees I expect to see; fish of various types; even an occasional dolphin has been spotted on the hunt for its next meal.  But an alligator?  Never.  Where on earth had he come from?  

Talk about a fish out of water, we have always heard that gators don't like salt water.  It is related to buoyancy or something else similarly scientific.  Thus we have never given a thought that danger could be lurking in the waters of our back yard.

As we stood in awe watching this misplaced reptile, I offered thanks that the tide was low.   Alligators have notoriously short legs. While they can move quickly on land, those squatty 

appendages would prevent our intruder from climbing over a seawall and wreaking havoc on our quiet neighborhood.  Instead, he was forced to remain water bound, cruising along until boredom must have overtaken him.

He slowly made his way out to sea, or on to the next neighborhood.  It's a good thing too.  I wouldn't want to wake up one fine morning and find this waiting on me. 

It would give me nightmares for weeks!