I'm standing at the edge of the patio, facing the house, my back to the yard where Levi romps along the fence line. I have my camera, and I'm looking up, to the right and left but always up, studying the beautiful cloud formations and the way the afternoon sun lights up my neighbor's oak tree, its leafy branches visible over my rooftop. I find my angle and take the shot.
I glance down, and there's Gimpy. He's sitting right beside me at the edge of the patio, facing the house, his back to the yard, and he's looking up and down, left and right, quietly studying the drainpipe, the table and chairs, the spaces between the slats of the fence. He knows there's a lizard hiding somewhere, but he hasn't spotted it yet. He'll pounce when he sees it.
Perched on top of the patio umbrella is a green anole lizard, its back to the house, facing the yard. It's looking down, to the left and right but always down, studying the woman and the predatory dog. It's dangerous to climb down right now, and the fence and the edge of the roof are too far away to leap there for safety. Better to sit here and wait. And watch.