When I first spotted it on the floor, I thought it was a medium-sized grasshopper. It scurried about as though it was missing a leg or two. It was a tiny lizard, though. It could not get enough traction on the polished marble floor, and so it looked frenzied. Its body wiggled from side to side at a furious pace as its feet slipped back and forth. I tried to pick it up from the floor, but it turned out to be too small for that. I could not grab it without hurting it. I got a piece of paper, but it dashed across it so fast that it ended up on the floor once again. And then I spotted a business card I could use for the rescue. It was the right size to ensure that the lizard would end up in the palm of my hand. At long last I caught it, closed my hand as gently as I could, and carried it to the terrace. It felt entirely at home on the stone parapet, and it dashed away in a jiffy. Walking back into the house with the business card in my hand, I wondered about its unexpected use. Indeed, lizard rescue would never have crossed the mind of the card’s inventor, producer, or owner.