Gecko guard

For most of my life I have had an abhorrence for wriggling, soft-bodied creatures - caterpillars, geckos, etc. The very thought of coming into physical contact with such a thing was enough to cause a convulsion. You know the type, when your whole body shudders and your arms and legs splay in all directions - a strange movement which must be rooted in some ancient caveman activity which we have long forgotten, signifying revulsion.
However, since the advent of Mango Kitty and Mr Bigglesworth, the gecko population of this household (quite impressive, and allowed due to their usefulness as insect catchers) has become endangered. Every night the cats play in the passage with their latest victim and it's no longer safe to walk barefoot in case I stand on a grossly wriggling detached tail or even worse, the rest of the gecko. The only way to protect and save these vulnerable creatures is to pick them up and take them back outside, and as always, the job falls to me.
So I have spoken sternly to myself and reminded me that all fears can be conquered simply by changing the way you think, and I have told myself that I have absolutely no problem picking up geckos, although the separated tail is still a work in progress! They are very gentle creatures and are only too happy to climb onto an outstretched hand. They are extremely cold to the touch and once they have a grip on you, are impossible to prise off. Now I know how they stick to the ceiling above the bed - no fear any more that they will lose suction and drop onto my face!
The same philosophy can be applied to anything in life, but I think that it was made easier by the necessity to be a lifesaver, rather than let them die in the clutches of the cats!