The Toloc Chronicles 2017 edition

How would you like to find one of these in your bathroom?

My last few posts have been introspective and heavy….so I thought I’d entertain you this week with a story that will make you happy you don’t live in Tropica.

You all know about my love/hate relationship to Tropica.  I’ve written several posts on it…and that my idea of hell is having a toloc in the house, which happens several times a year.

So, imagine my surprise dismay shock! disgust! when I walked into my bathroom, which is the furthest room away from the walled-in garden of my house it could possibly be, to find a f***ing toloc hanging out behind the toilet. To refresh your memory, it’s a gila monster. Tourists visiting Chichen Itza or Uxmal often stop looking at the pyramids to take pictures of tolocs sunning themselves on the rocks.

Not so nice in your own bathroom.

How does a toloc creep past two cats and a hunter dachsund? Or did it fall down from the bathroom skylight?

And I live alone! No one to yell for, scream for, cry to.

I kept my wits.  Keeping my eyes on it I closed my closet door so it couldn’t run in there and hide amongst my shoes…and then closed the bathroom door. Into the living room with a shot of vodka went I.

Who could I call? On a Sunday afternoon? I started calling around and reached my friend Mara, who answered her phone across the peninsula in Playa del Carmen where she was enjoying a beachy weekend. “Let me think about it and I’ll get back to you,” she said. Five minutes later this angel called back. “My brother’s worker, Oscar, will be over there sometime later,” she said. Oscar, my unknown saviour.

A few hours later, Oscar’s teenage son and a friend ring the bell, armed with a brown towel, “to throw over the toloc.” A toloc’s tail whips, its bite is strong, its claws can destroy — and they came with a towel. I give them a bucket, a shovel, two barbecue tongs and a plastic bag. For them this is a Sunday afternoon lark.

I stand nervously outside the bathroom door whilst lots of banging goes on. Oscar junior opens the door and says, “It’s not here. It’s gone.”  I said, “Oh yes it is. Hiding. Start poking around.” Sure enough, the toloc had hidden itself in a pile of folded clean towels. After a struggle they got it into a plastic bag and tossed it into the trunk of their car and drove off. They would throw it in the monte from the highway. I tipped them very nicely.

Bathroom’s a mess. Towels all over the place. Toloc shit on the shower floor. My sanctuary invaded. Living alone sucks is not for sissies.

Not a happy camper. This toloc is yet one more nail in the tropical coffin. But it’s a new week and I’ve got a long list of things to do, papers to take care of, people to see.

Everyone has something that happens in their home that causes total breakdown of nerve. What’s yours? Doesn’t have to be caused by a living thing. Do entertain us in the comments box below!

Wishes for a happy week everyone!

xo Liza

P.S.  Btw, I live in the city, not in the wild countryside.

Hello my lovelies! I always laugh at the tourists snapping photographs of tolocs when they vacation in Tropica. If they only knew. Do say hi in the comments box below.  We love the chit chat. And if you enjoy being part of a community of super cool, witty, wise women, enter your email in the box above so you don’t miss a thing.

 

19 thoughts on “The Toloc Chronicles 2017 edition

  1. Did you ever figure out how it got in? That’s the most common phrase in our house…usually referring to scorpions. We have screens on the windows and sweepers under the doors and seals around all doors and windows. “How the heck (usually a stronger word than ‘heck’) did that thing get inside?” we always ask. One time it was a little snake, and we were away for an overnight at the beach. Our cat (indoor-only) killed the snake and left its bloody carcass under the bed for us to find upon our return. Again, the same question was asked. We’ve never had an answer 🙂

    1. Hi Juanita! I think it either fell down from a skylight in the bathroom, or, simply walked into the house from the back garden whilst all the cats and dog and me! were not paying any attention. That’s the only explanation. Snakes and bugs can squish through bottoms of screens and doors…. so that doesn’t surprise me. Anyway, you have a good hunter cat!

  2. Liza,
    Know an intermittent yet appreciative follower.
    Forgive me if thus was obvious in previous posts. But, did you have your hip replacement done in “Tropica” as you call it? curious to hear your opinion on hospital/care if you did.
    Hoping your recouperation both body and spirit continues in an uphill tragectory.

  3. Hi Andree. Thanks for writing. Yes, I had my hip replacement done in Merida. I had excellent, state of the art care, great surgeons, and returned home two nights after the surgery. I adore the personal touch of the healthcare system in Mexico. It’s brilliant. The physiotherapist comes to the house every day for my rehab sessions, both on land and in the pool. I hope this helps answer your question. If you have any more detailed questions you can pm me through the contact page. Wishes for a happy day!

  4. Had a small cinnamon colored bear try to get into my house in Colorado. I would much rather have had the bear than a toloc. My black lab was hilarious….sat like a stone with the “I do not do bears” look on her face. Luckily bears scare off easily, but he spent one summer in and out of trouble around my house. But no place is perfect….my life is filled with bear proof dumpsters, mama elk that aggressively protect the space around their babies, mountain lions that you cannot see and birds of prey that will take off with small dogs and cats out of your yard, and 4+ million tourists. Look forward to see where you go next….life is an adventure!

  5. Hi Liza, I really relate to your post. When you’re single, creepy invaders are a major problem. I have suck’d geckos into the shop vac to get them out of the house. Your lizard wouldn’t fit. Also, when I first became a widow, I suddenly had a mouse problem, where we never had one when my husband was alive. You do what you have to do. We will survive. Love to all the strong women.

  6. Two suggestions.. 1. Give it a name, won’t be so scary ifs just Henry coming for a visit. 2. Move to the NW. Nothing poisonous to worry about. Yesterday an eagle, deer with spotted doe and Bob, my squirrel. Life is good here. Life is great here!

  7. Your post makes me so glad I live where I do, Liza!! Ireland isn’t known for its great weather but we don’t have snakes, scorpions or lizards, thank goodness 🙂

    1. Ireland is a beautiful country! I’m a knitter and it’s good climate for sweaters and scarves, which I knit and can’t use here, ha ha.

  8. My coworker has been pestering me to consider Merida for retirement. I checked out SMA last September but do think I need to be near an ocean. I’m not so sure after reading this! Funny too because I raised a boy and had a house full of snakes and lizards, one of which he brought back from Mexico on the plane under his baseball cap! Thanks for the post.
    Patty

    1. Hi Patricia. Don’t let a toloc stop you from moving to Merida. Many people never see one in their house ever…! I’m just lucky, I guess.

  9. I’ve been in Tropica for a LONG time and have a few toloc stories. One invaded my sturdily-screened game room over a period of a few days. I finally caught it opening the screen door very efficiently, smooth as glass, really. It turns out tolocs have a latent mechanical ability. My awfully sad toloc story is, however, when our laundry room began to stink suddenly but quite persistently. Turns out the little screen/grid had fallen out of the exhaust shoot for the dryer and a large toloc came wiggling in and then, of course, couldn’t back out. At some point I turned the machine on and sliced and diced it inside the blower fan. Well, I didn’t have a clue about what had happened since all I heard was a rather loud thump and squeel. I called the technician, who came after a couple of days. By that time, you can imagine the stench. He wasn’t phased even a little, took apart the dryer, cleaned out the mess, disinfected the fan with bleach. He said he has removed dead snakes, baby possums, mice and rats, and, of course, plenty of tolocs, from dryers. In spite of so many critters, local people are still very respectful of their right to co-exist with humans. I once saw the police animal control brigade spend over an hour coaxing a long, brown, non-poisonous snake to abandon our neighbor’s car motor where it wrapped itself around and around. Happily, they were successful and took it away in a sack to be returned to the “monte”.

  10. I laughed at this story, not because it was funny, but because it reminded me of the time I told my sister I would housesit her lizard. It wasn’t a gila monster thank God. It was very large and mean! I went into the room to feed it and it zoomed out into the living room and up the curtains. I tucked his long tail under my arm and held him under his body by his neck. He turned colors- when I got him back in his cage, I called my sister and told her the story. She started cackling- and told me he probably turned colors because I had grabbed his personal parts. That was so gross!!!
    Never again am I helping her with her critters!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *