A Dog and Toad Poison

Two balmy evenings last week were heavenly before winter arrived once again. Guess what I heard in the pond for the first time in 2008? Then, guess what I did?

Flashlight between my legs, camera to my face…examining toad love.

Toad love is loud. Very loud. Not as loud as it will be in a month or two when I’ll wonder if the neighbors will put notes on my door for disturbing the peace.

Windows were open. The pond is only about forty feet away from Michael’s recliner where he was watching either golf, Forensic Files, History Channel, or something else I’m not interested in when there are spawn machines on the pond. I was so delighted to hear them again!

From the recliner, “Can you close the windows? I can’t hear the TV.”

“What? I can’t hear you!”

Honestly, pond toads will become a nuisance and just another chore soon. Dozens of the little horny amphibians hold onto each other and float into the skimmer. More than once a day, I lift the skimmer lid and find them deliriously in love and attached, swirling and circling inside with the strength of the pump flow pulling them inside, making them too exhausted to swim out. I swoop them out with bare hands to save them.

There is more potential danger. The following photos are terrible because of my efforts to photograph a hard-headed Boston Terrible being disobedient and saving an innocent toad.

I say in my deep but ineffective voice, “Leave it!” Bella always obeys, but Chloe? Never.

Let me taste you.

Again, “Chloe! Leave it!”

Come here, little stinky toad. Let’s play. Let me touch you. Just a little poke on your spongy back.

The girl can’t help it.

I’ll find you, sneaky toad!

She can’t see well in her old age but her nose is in good shape.

I command in a louder voice, “Chloe, LEAVE IT!”

Let’s see how fast you can escape this little grave I’m digging for you.

Front feet become a blur and the dirt flies. Need a tiller? Have a Boston Terrier. They can bury themselves in three minutes flat.

A freshly dug hole in 7 seconds.

Then, with the teeth she has left, she clamped down on the toad who knew exactly what to do!

Damn. Toads taste like sh-t.

Toad was safely back in the pond and I was laughing out loud…

I need a chaser or I’ll die! Please!

Will you stop laughing, go inside and bring me a cookie and a drink?

You think this is funny, woman? Ok, how about if I come over there and lay a few French kisses on you.