Mr. Ampersand was a toad. I have read recently that a prehistoric toad, a toad the size of a beanbag, has been discovered. They think it ate baby dinosaurs. Mr. Ampersand was about that size, but of course he did not eat baby dinosaurs. Mainly he ate cats.
In 1968, a man named Theodore, Teddie to his friends, left his wife. He did not move across town into the house of a younger, prettier woman. He did not take his luggage and make his way to Morocco to lie in the sun and drink and smoke and spend his pension. He did not move to France to live in a château to eat cheese and write a bad novel. He simply left. No one ever could find him again, not even his mother, and she looked harder than anyone. She especially looked harder than Ethel Clement, his wife.