by Ethan Johnson
September 21, 2007

For whatever reason, we have taken on a lodger. Well, another lodger, what with all of the house geckos creeping around our yard. A few weeks ago, I found something new on our patio that was decidedly unlike a gecko: A toad. I took some photos of it, then released it across the alley from our house. Nothing like getting a handful of toad pee. It brings back memories of Lake Superior, or scout camp. (Sniffle) Another one hopped along a few days later, resulting in another photo shoot and relocation. Now we're on our third distinctly different toad. Since the third time is the charm, I left it alone to see what businesses it had with our yard. The answer: A burrow.

[Edit 9/23/2007: Upon reviewing the photos, it is the same toad each time. Not sure how it is homing in on its burrow, but that kind of tenacity has inspired me to be more welcoming and protective.]

I set these bricks up years ago to discourage our butthead dogs from digging under the downspout. Apparently, this is prime real estate for toads. Toad the Third (no idea as to gender) is hunkered down in this very brick pile as I type this.

If you summon the toad, it will appear. I am not kidding.

"Where's the toad...?"

Not sure what the toad wants (other than probably to be left alone). My middle dog is obsessed with the toad. He likes to encourage it to hop, then recoils in shock when it actually does. My youngest dog has no concept of much of anything, so she is on the one hand interested because her brother is, but otherwise is oblivious and loses interest.

Sadly, my oldest dog discovered the toad last night and had an altogether different reaction. He went in - twice - for the kill. Between the toad's hopping and my frantic clawing at his collar, he didn't succeed. I wrangled the dogs into the house, and went back outside to assure the toad that this wasn't how it was going to be, really. It was hopping off toward the neighbor's house. I scooped up the toad and set it back down on its brick pile, hoping it would retire to its burrow.

I summoned the toad a few hours later, and got no reply.

I'm happy to report that I leaned over the brick pile this morning, asked "where's the toad", and was greeted by a familiar, bumpy face.

Good to know that the toad is over its near-death experience. Just the same, I'm keeping my oldest dog far, far away from the burrow site. <EM>