Dear Mother,
I am sure you will be surprised to see this letter, considering the last time we saw each other was during the Great Conflagration. I was relieved to see you made it out of the fire alive, as well as most of my siblings. I hope you have successfully avoided the snakes, birds and especially the cats that cause our family such woe.
You may recall that, while our ancestral home in the pile of brush burned, I ran toward the fence . There was simply no way for a lizard of my size to get around that blaze, so I took refuge wherever I could. For several days I wandered, beset upon by those large birds with the flat feet, hunted by possums and especially that one-eyed cat, Archibald. Once I saw a snake, but I successfully blended in with a branch and he didn’t see me.
One day, while I was trying to find my way home, I climbed upon a stick that the male human had leaned against the place they gather (I believe they call it a picnic table. We hunted flies there once when the humans had fed.) The human did not see me, but before I could jump back to the table, he had placed the stick in his vehicle.
I was terrified. We have seen the skeletal remains of so many of our kin trapped in the vehicles of the humans. I knew my days were done, and there was nothing I could do. I feared once more that I would never again see my family, or eat another succulent fly.
The human took the vehicle a long distance away, and I decided to hide in hopes of somehow making good my escape. Fortunately, the color of the inside of the vehicle was a hue I could easily adopt, so I became almost invisible.
Mother, you cannot imagine the smells on the inside of that vehicle. I cannot begin to describe them. It was comfortably warm, anyway. The human grumbled something about a lack of air conditioning. I personally thought the air was perfectly conditioned, but he rolled down the windows, allowing a gale of wind to buffet me without mercy. I retreated into a secure place waiting for the storm to end.
The journey ended, and as the human got out, I looked around. It was a horrible world, Mother. There were buildings and hard black ground everywhere. I thought to escape and run to a cluster of trees, but they were far, far away. I’d have had to run across the black ground in the open, dodging vehicles and who knows what, so I stayed inside, and began exploring.
The human had spilled some of the grain he gives those terrifying white animals with the hard feet and horns, and the feed had become wet. I was amazed that the mess had drawn several flies. It is much easier to hunt bugs in an enclosed space. My hunger satisfied, I ventured toward the front of the vehicle.
Imagine my horror when I climbed to the front flat surface – I think they call it a dashboard – and discovered a snake! Its mouth gaped at me, fangs dangling down, and once again I figured my days were at an end. I froze and changed colors, hoping it didn’t see me.
The snake never moved. Even its tongue didn’t flicker. I stayed there for half the day before I cautiously approached it, ready to flee. Then I discovered that it wasn’t actually a snake, just some horrific creation that looked like a snake, albeit not one of a species we know. I scampered across it and it didn’t move – and came face to face with a dog.
The dog also turned out to be a ruse. Why the human would have such things on his dashboard is beyond me. It’s irresponsible. They might scare people, or at least scare lizards like us. I sincerely hope this is not the fate of other animals that get caught in his vehicle.
The “dashboard” had a variety of odd things on it, the purposes of which I could not fathom. I devoured a spider that was spinning a web in one corner. Unlike the other things, the spider was real.
The human eventually returned to the vehicle, and I hid again. Once again he drove for a long period of time – I watched a machine on the dashboard change eleven times between the place with the black ground and home.
I was overjoyed when he parked the vehicle beside the table, under the big oak tree. At last I could make good my escape – but he closed the windows as it began raining. I did not see him again until the next morning, and those white monsters were crowded around the back of the vehicle, along with that one-eyed genocidal maniac who hunts our family.
Again, we drove back to what I now know is called “the office,” where the human seems to spend most of his time. He left the window cracked again, so it didn’t get too hot inside. I discovered another fly or two, and was asleep when he headed for home.
I determined I would make my escape when we arrived, but once again, it began raining, and he closed the windows.
The next morning, I crawled across the ceiling and jumped to the dashboard in front of the human, hoping to startle him so he would be forced to let me out. I couldn’t blow my chin as my father and brothers do, of course, since we girls don’t have air sacs, but I did my best to appear ferocious. I was getting desperate.
Instead of being frightened, he greeted me, and said I was welcome. He even changed the noise coming out of the dashboard to something more soothing. To say I was confused is an understatement.
What made matters worse was that he asked for my name – as if humans can even speak anole.
When I didn’t respond, he said he would call me “Dharma the Dragon.” I have no idea why. He said not to worry about the meaning of the name. As we headed for the office, he explained that I was welcome to stay as long as I liked. He even thanked me for eating the flies, and said he would provide some mealy worms (whatever they are) if I ate all the flies and mosquitoes. He has a particular hatred for mosquitoes.
So for the time being, Mother, I have a name, a job, and a safe place to live. I must admit, I almost enjoy this new life. I have molted twice since I last saw you. I get to see a lot of the world. The human stroked my back the other day as I lay in the sunshine on the dashboard, beside the fake snake. I do not think he has plans to turn me into something like that, but I am always watchful.
Please feel free to climb the table and the oak tree, so you can drop by for a visit anytime. If the window is open, I’m available.
Give my love to my 40 siblings, and reassure Father I am holding out for a male anole with an air sac as large and red as his.
All my love,
Dharma the Dragon.
