Warm-ups were sluggish this morning; the sun's heat set in early. I had little focus. A lean yellow cat kept me company.

I finished and went in, then came out to get clothes from the car.

The cat brought the lizard to my attention.

The lizard was black and gray--a desert lizard of some sort--its markings blended with the aphalt. It had long fingers and toes, and a dragon-like crest. It didn't move.

The cat patted the lizard, the lizard snapped like lightning, raced up a tree. Its markings blended with those of the bark.

The cat reached high, standing on long back legs, swatting toward the lizard; the lizard climbed to the highest branch and then went all the way out on the flimsiest limb.

The cat without a sideways glance did the same, all the way to the lizard.

The lizard let go--just missed my head--dropped to the ground, darted into a hole among some rocks.

The cat came down the tree trunk, as agile as he had been climbing up, and hurried to the rocks, investigated the hole, the rocks around it, the hole again.

The lizard was out of reach.

The cat now was panting, his mouth in a grimace. He ducked under the car.

I found a bottle of water--it was already over 95 degrees out--and poured some in the cap.

The cat didn't understand until I touched some drops onto his face and paws.

He drank the water, I poured more into the cap, he drank more.