The Story of Avocado

Tonight, our oldest lizard, an anole named Avocado, died. I don't know how old he was, but we had him for three years. It's a peculiar thing missing a lizard, especially an anole. You can't pet them. You can't cuddle with them. You can feed them crickets, and you can watch them eat crickets, and sometimes distend their dulap to show off for you. But, he was our lizard. Our first pet we had together, so it was emotional to lose the guy. I can't help but remember the other momentual pet deaths I experienced. When our family cat named BJ died, I cried for a week. It was like losing a sibling (my parents had the cat before they had me, and I think I might be named after him). When my dog (the first and only dog), Frisbee died, I cried for a long time. I even had a hard time walking into the backyard to take out the trash for months afterwards. My dad cried then too, even though he claimed to never have liked Frisbee. He was the one who took her to the vet to have her put to sleep (she couldn't walk anymore), and he left a note for my mom saying that he was crying so hard over that "stupid dog" that he couldn't talk, and had to show the secretary at the vet his checkbook, so they knew what name Frisbee's record was under. And Avi's passing dying is difficult too, even if he was "only" a lizard. I mean, he was our pet just the same. He was ours to care for, and we did our best. And right now, I feel bad for not crying. I took care of Avi for a long time, and I'm going to miss him, even if he was just a lizard in a tank.

Avocado was kidnapped from Louisiana by some high school student there for Mardi Gras, and given to me because that high school student (who was complete community service at my school when I was a fifth-grade teacher) couldn't keep him. He was a classroom pet, who my students named Godzilla (there was another anole given to me by the high schooler as well that the students named Squirrel, because they said that sounded "gangster" but Squirrel died a little over a month in my care). And I discovered that my students were mean to Godzilla. I caught one student, who I think is in a behavior disorder classroom now, shaking the aquarium Godzilla lived in just to scare the lizard. That was the last day Godzilla was in the class, and I took him home and delivered him to Emily to care for while she earned her master's degree. She renamed him Avocado (because he was a greenish-brown, like an avocado). And after that, Avi survived many trips back and forth to the StL area and another big move up to Minnesota. And he even survived the care of Nostradamustache. He toughed it all out.

Avi lived about as an eventful a life an anole can live. Born in Louisiana, shangaied to Illinois, tortured by children, moved to Minnesota, and living through the deaths of two tank mates (Squirrel & Cilantro). As goofy, and as sentimental as it sounds, he led about as good a life as a captive lizard can. So, adios Avocado. I hope you enjoyed staying with us as much as we enjoyed caring for you.