WC Frogs

The summer has been unusually hot and dry so far.  This time last year there were frogs everywhere, and one could hear them calling at night.  This year I have heard nothing and until today the only frogs I have seen is the one in my pond that Carl rescued from the pound and the one that lives in the loo at the landfill.  The one I could not catch.  This morning over coffee Carl told me there were now three frogs occupying the two toilets in the mens locker room at the Shire Council Yard. They hide up under the rim. Just like the one at the landfill.

It seems that conditions are so dry that the frogs are desperately willing to tolerate chlorinated water, unthinkable periodic contamination, golden showers and all the in- convenience of living in Toulouse.

Since this could amount to a potential public health risk, I thought I should get to the bottom of it.  I had to go down and check it out.  Armed with my trusty net and a portable vivarium, I flushed them out, so to speak, and had them in captivity in minutes.  Flushed with victory,  I took them home and dropped them off near the pond.  They seemed happy with the arrangement.

This evening, a few moments ago.  I sat outside to catch a wee bit of breeze while drinking my iced lime and cider before turning in, I found myself surrounded by happy little frogs hunting insects that were attracted to the light coming through the security flyscreen.   They don’t seem to be too bothered by my presence.  They are not camera shy.  

It is nice to have some amphibian companionship again.   

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About Alan

Alone in a sea of spinifex.
This entry was posted in Animal Husbandry, Autobiography, Climate, Drama, frogs, Humour, Life, don't talk to me about life!, Nature, Weather and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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