We have a lizard that lives in our patio. I don’t know where he hides out during the day, but he is out at night. Every night. Just a question of which wall he will be scampering across once we open the door from the street.

I don’t know for certain that he is a gecko. But I prefer to think he is. Seems a little big for your garden-variety lizard.

So, of course, he must be known as …

Gordon Gecko.

Like the slithering Michael Douglas character in “Wall Street” and the current sequel “Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps.”

And yes, I know that the Douglas character is actually Gordon Gekko. But it’s pronounced the same. GEK-oh.

(And an aside: Ever notice how all of us — but especially women — refer to all vermin, whether it’s insects, spiders, rats, lizards,  all of them — as he? It’s as if we don’t think spiders and mice come in female varieties. The ones we are afraid of …. they must be male, right? Interesting. Thus, the lizard in our patio has to be “him”. Any housefly … “go kill him!” Him.)

So, it’s Gordon Gecko. Not Gordiana. And when we come in, we look for him. Say hello. Give him a wave. Wish him “good hunting” with the idea that he eats almost entirely insects, right? And none of the insects he eats are coming inside the Teeny Apartment. So we’re all good.

Now that he’s been around so long … and it seems like almost a year … we sometimes refer to him as “Gord.” You know, we’re pals. So we sometimes dispense with the formal Gordon and go with Gord.

He’s a friend of ours. And we are pretty sure he’s never been involved in insider trading.