The creature scuttles across the ground.

It's odd number of thin legs moving much too fast for something at size.

I step off my porch, following at a safe distance

as the monster enters the pool of orange light

cast by the street lamp at the edge of my property.

It moves up the opposite curb and over the sidewalk with all the speed of a striking snake,

heading straight for the house across the street.

It has the spindly legs of a black widow spider,

although there are far more than eight,

and there are more on one side of its long body than the other. It has the head of a jackal,

but it's upside down. So the eyes are on the bottom, and the jaw opens up rather than down.

The jackal's head looks to be messily attached to the body of a fat, hairy, red, and black caterpillar.

The whole thing is about three feet long, standing about

two feet off the ground on its thin legs. It scurries around my neighbor's house as I cross the street.

I know what it's doing by now, so I don't try to follow it into the backyard. Instead,

I head over to the front window that looks into the

living room. I crouched down, peering to the bottom of the window at my neighbor where he lies on

the couch, watching television. I don't have to wait long before the creature appears, coming in from

the small dining room area on the other side of the

living room. It sits there in the doorway between rooms, lifting its jackal head to stare at my

neighbor, whose name is Dan. After about five minutes of staring, it inches toward Dan,

who sprawled out on his couch and laughing at something on the television.

...