Sometime between when I rushed home to straighten out a billing mess with my dad's psychiatrist (Sshhh! Don't tell him!), and when I went out to move the recycling carts, the anole vanished.
It sounds like a Hitchcock plot, but I blame it on the lawn servicemen with hedge-trimmers and leaf-blowers. I was saving the little anole's skeleton as a reptile example for the science shelf. The snails had cleaned it up, but I wanted to see if the bones would get whiter before I boxed the skeleton for school. Now I can't find it anywhere around my doorstep.
© 2010 Nancy L. Ruder
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