Our church is home to little lizards. They eat bugs, leave no mess, and scare no one. They’re my friends, and I name them all Leonard. Every one of them—Leonard. One weekday afternoon I took my little dog to the church office with me. I left her in the hallway for less than a minute and came back to see the carnage of dead Leonard lying on the carpet. His neck was bitten wide open, body crushed, and tail bitten off. My little Yorkshire Terrier, barely ten pounds and always cute, paced back and forth, apparently proud of her warrior’s…