Day 66: A mystery pooper and phantom bugs

Something has been pooping in our bed the past two nights. No, it’s not Matt. Seeing as I’ve become familiar with lizard turds, I know what type of creature they’re coming from at least. And I’m pretty sure I know exactly which one. One that’s angry with me. One that’s seeking revenge. One that doesn't have a full tail. Little does he know, he’s pooping on Mike’s side of the bed.


I didn’t know but Matt is something of a gecko expert seeing as he’s had them as pets back in the day. He told me a story about the time his gecko’s tail had also been removed by a woman – although in a bit more dramatic fashion. Against Matt's wishes, she took the gecko out to play but it had other plans. When it ran away, she grabbed for it…only to be left pinching a squirmy tail with no body attached. Matt assured me the gecko was fine and the tail grew back.

So I’m now convinced that the gecko may have survived after I severed its tail. And to add to that, I’ve seen a handful of geckos suctioned to our windows with either no tails or new nubs sprouting up. I have a vested interest in their tail growing abilities so I examine them pretty closely through the glass. I’m thinking it might have had a chance although Matt didn’t recall his gecko being unable to climb, flopped on its back or convulsing after the incident. Maybe this little guy was a bit was dramatic.

Not only is there a ghost pooper on the loose, I’ve also been battling an unidentified species of phantom bugs. They may go unmentioned in all the guide books I’ve read but they can’t be ignored. At times I can sit quietly while writing and see or feel nothing until the itch kicks in and announces the arrival of the new bites scattered from my shoulders to my ankles. No bugs in sight, no tickles of little legs, just pink swollen itchy bumps left behind as proof they exist. On other occasions, I will swat and flinch at nothing for an hour swearing I feel something crawling on my knee, my neck, my arm. I never find what it is, never able to see anything. But I’m always left with new tiny red lumps begging for my fingernails. I have yet to be free of bug bites since Day 1 in Costa Rica. I’ve come to terms with the fact that it’s just a normal part of life here. I just pray that none of them are carrying any souvenirs for me to take home in the form of a disease and I try to keep scarring to a minimum by prohibiting scratch sessions. But really, if you’re gonna bite me, at least show your face. Coward bugs. That’s all I ask. Well, that and what’s pooping on our bed?