When I was a very small girl, we had a pet tarantula. It was named Genghis Khan, and it had at one point belonged to one of my uncles. Genghis was a terrific pet, quiet and light pink, and it ticked when it crawled on your hand. But it does get cold in Florida every now and again, and we didn't have money for things like heat, so Genghis froze to death one winter. I had always assumed that he just ran away, and never really bothered to research it further until this last trip to Florida.
My mother looked at me funny when I asked--I doubt she'd thought about that tarantula in years. Next, I plan to ask her what really happened to my dog, that day I came home from school and it was gone. At the time, they told me that my dad had sold it, which seems like an awfully mean trick to play on a little girl.
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