Then we commenced to joking about it. T started things by looking out the window, shaking her head and saying, "oh, Simba." This brought JT and me rushing to the window to see what was up. Nothing, of course. We'd been bamboozled. But the Simba jokes have continued. This year, while moving stones in her garden for Hurricane Sandy preparation, T found our very own Simba.
He's admittedly a bit worse of the wear. Between the cracked head and missing leg which causes him to lurch a bit, we think he fits in quite nicely at Sassafras House. So now he watches over our backyard. This month, he's tucked in some ivy at the base of the back deck stairs. But's he's mobile, our crummy Simba. Who knows where he'll turn up next?