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Archive for March 1st, 2016

Come On Spring!

I’m afraid to say it. Scared that if I say it some abominable snow storm will miraculously form and descend right on us. But I am going to say it anyway, albeit in a whisper: I think we may have an early Spring. If we do, it would be a very good thing indeed because the tadpole that has wintered over in the fish tank with the other infant gold fish from our pond is now a frog. A very tiny frog, but a frog nonetheless. So, I have been researching and running around trying to find what makes a good indoor frog environment and what the heck does a little frog eat until we can put him out in the pond in the Spring.

In my search, I discovered areas in the bigger pet stores I didn’t know existed as well as uncovering smaller pet stores that catered to…um…shall we say more esoteric “pets”. Let’s just say as far as the smaller “pet” shops go my hair stood on end more than once and I had full blown panic attacks in two. The last word I am going to say about these alternative shops is that some people keep very strange and often dangerous animals as “pets”. I will never again enter an unknown dwelling without asking the person what if any “pets” are present.

With the accoutrements collected and food for the little frog in hand, I came home and set up his new digs. Yarn Rascal was all over everything, working himself up into a lather. While Yarn Rascal’s breed has no hunting dog genes in it, Yarn Rascal is quite the little hunter. Rabbits, squirrels, chipmunks, crickets, toads, and we can now add frogs to the list, all get his attention.

With the new digs set up I was prepared to simply move the small—smaller than my pinky finger–fella from the fish tank to its new home right next door. Yarn Rascal was in full leaping, barking and yelping mode, The Skipper was trying to explain to me how to move the frog and I had just removed the lid of the fish tank and was getting ready to pick up the frog and place him in his new home when the frog did what frogs do: it jumped out of the tank onto the floor. My first thought was OMG he’s so tiny nobody move or we’ll step on him. This thought quickly passed from my mind though, when Yarn Rascal squealed with delight and went to “catch” the tiny thing in his mouth. But the frog was faster and made another giant leap. This time into the middle of the living room. The Skipper and I fell over each other trying to retrieve the dog before he got the frog and trying to catch the frog before he got away into some nook or cranny and we lost him.

Neither The Skipper nor I are young. He is in his 70s I am 60. Two elderly people scrambling while the frog keeps leaping and Yarn Rascal keeps pursuing. The frog briefly made it to the couch and so did Yarn Rascal. Then it was on top of my knitting and so was Yarn Rascal. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen Yarn Rascal show no interest in yarn. Next the frog landed on the side table, so did Yarn Rascal and over went the lamp and scattered picture frames onto the floor. Two giant leaps later the frog landed on the wood stacked by the fireplace and then it was onto the side table of all tables, the one with the antique porcelain I had so painstakingly collected.

“Not the porcelain”, I shouted and caught Yarn Rascal mid leap, while The Skipper threw one of my knitted shawls over the top of the table. I fell onto the sofa with Yarn Rascal squiggling in my arms, panting, his tongue hanging down to his little feet. The Skipper and I both watched the shawl as the little lump beneath it tried to leap.

All told, it took about 20 minutes from the time the little fella escaped from the tank and was then sequestered in his new home. It took a full glass of water and a long soak in the bathtub before my nerves settled into a low roar. The Skipper went downstairs into his man cave and tended to the seedlings we’ve started for the growing season. Yarn Rascal slurped a bowl of water and none-the-worse-for-the-wear positioned himself outside the bathroom door busily chewing one of his bones. Truly, I can’t wait for Spring.

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