SOMEONE ATE ERIC THE CATERPILLAR. Or he crawled off to metamorphose and didn't leave a note. I would have expected to find a pile of yellow-and-black-striped barf or a sick chicken if he had been eaten, but there's no sign of him. He left plenty of nice milkweed uneaten, so he didn't just crawl off in search of milkier pastures. I hope he's sentient goo in a chrysalis somewhere, and not inside Plucky.
Also, Steve the Rooster has been rehomed. And the tree limb has been removed.
To balance things out, the sink has filled with dirty dishes, and the pile of unfolded laundry on my bed has reappeared. Nature is magical.
It's science.
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