It’s been raining a lot lately, so look who turned up on the Catio.
Did you invite him, ma?
I wonder what would happen if I do this.
Whereupon Mr. Frog gave a mighty leap to the chair.
Bugs ponders his next move.
The only possible response:
Mr. Frog’s response was to flatten himself down into a micron-thin puddle. I’ve never seen such a flattened frog.
You just never know about the frogs around here. Some of them are poisonous.* So I ushered Mr. Frog outside the Catio into the great outdoors. Where Mr. Frog could carry on being a frog without further interference from this quarter.
*I could have misidentified the frog in the previous post as a Fowler’s toad. Orange legs . . .
Photo by Patrick Coin
. . . suggest it might have been a Cope’s gray tree frog.
No frogs were harmed in the making of this post.