This blue-tongue lizard showed up in my backyard in March 2007, narrowly escaping injury or death at my feet. I’d been getting so annoyed at the increasing tendency of a large, floppy sheet of 4mm plywood (originally left leaning against the wall) to be blown over by unusually strong winds that I pretty much gave up and left it on the ground for a week.
The sheet had to be picked up eventually unless I wanted a large patch of dead grass, so out I went early one morning, and resisting the rabid desire to take a running jump and stomp on the thing, I picked it up by one corner. And there the beast was, looking back at me. I turned around and returned to the house for my camera.
The lizard was still sitting there, lethargic from the morning chill, when I emerged and started clicking away — but it hissed and disappeared slowly down a hole in the base of the fence when I touched it lightly on the back.
“Stumpy” — that tail termination is abnormal and probably the result of a run-in with a cat or a dog — returned to the yard a few months later and hid behind the rainwater tank. I haven’t seen it since.