Our anole, Arlo, died tonight.
No, he wasn’t cuddly, nor affectionate – but he was fun while he was around and certainly had his own personality.
Karen found him. Or I should say, a truck driver found him. He was on the cement loading dock at her work. Apparently he hitchhiked on a load of plants from the southern USA, and ended up falling off the plant during the palette loading here in the Salt Lake valley – in the worst of the last winter a year and a half ago. Near frozen and barely moving, the driver took him in to Karen’s office.
Karen decided to name him after Arlo Guthrie. It somehow fit.
A total rescue case, I recall the sudden flurry of buying a terrarium, a dried grape vine and a fake leafy vine to climb on – just to provide habitat for a lizard far away from home. Peta eat your ugly heart out!
Karen kept him warm in her hands on the way home (we car pool in winter, when I can’t motorcycle) and by the time we had everything setup for his new environment, he was running and hopping around like a nut case. He certainly seemed to like his new home. Plenty of crickets, a nice, warm and humid environment and a small pool to soak in when he wanted.
He apparently was one of the few anoles which actually would drink from a still pool. Many anoles will only drink from water clinging to plants or the side of the glass. Arlo, wasn’t so picky, even when we sprayed down the terrarium, at least twice a day.
I have no idea why he died. In the last week, he kept eating, but kept loosing weight, getting skinnier and skinnier over the last few days.
Then, he finally gave his last breath.
We buried him in the back, next to Alaska.
If there is some kind of afterlife, I hope he’s found a leafy and warm place – full of bugs.
