lucky

Once upon a time I had a pet green anole, and his name was Lucky.

Lucky was cool. If you did not know, a green anole is a kind of chameleon. He was pretty easy to take care of. He lived in a small aquarium, and I fed him crickets.

Okay, I have to admit feeding crickets to a pet is somewhat difficult. Because Lucky would only eat live crickets. Which meant that I had to buy them in bulk...and keep them alive. In effect I had to take care of crickets to take care of Lucky.

Good times.

One day after I had been with lucky for a couple months I discovered his cage was empty. It seems I had not put the cover on the aquarium as securely as I should.

I looked high; I looked low, but no Lucky. I gave him up as lost, assuming he had wandered off into the great unknown.

Eight months later I moved from that apartment in Sterling Heights to Hamtramck. (This move consisted of my friends breaking into my apartment and packing for me because I was a disorganized sumofabitch.) The move was done, my life down the stairs across town in a moving truck and up another set.

Unpacking is always interesting. It becomes even more so when you find the skeletal remains of an old pet wrapped around part of a milk crate.

Do you know what a green anole looks like dead? Ummmmm, still green, maybe just a bit skinnier. Lucky was fossilized in a U-shape, and discovering him was a bit of a shock. Guess he got loose, and just hung out in my closet for a spare cricket to come his way. Sadly that never happened, and he just dried up while staying still. And moved with me.

To celebrate his life I hung Lucky on my Xmas tree that year. So he could be there with us.

Oh, but guess what. It is hard to find a green item on a green tree. Making Lucky an ornament was yet another tragic decision in the saga, I was not able to find him before tossing the tree off the second floor balcony. So frustrating to find him and then lose him all over again. Blast!

Lucky went down with the Xmas tree. Seems my experiences with Lucky were not so lucky after all. Doomed from the moment I named him, you may say.

Or just doomed because he was my pet. (To be continued…)