Little Toad

I was awakened before the sun came up by a thunking noise outside my door.  I tried to ignore it and return to sleep, but that became impossible.  I suppose I got out of bed at least three times to gaze out onto the deck in search of the perpetrator.  Of course, when I did so, the noise stopped.  My best guess was that a bird was doing something he shouldn't be doing up on the roof and would fly away when I opened the sliding screen door.

Nope.  It wasn't a bird.  Once I'd given up on sleep and gotten up, I considered that a bear might be going through the garbage I'd placed in the driveway last night to remind me to go to the landfill today.  But the can was intact, no bear tracks in sight.  The fact that my cat, stretched out on the deck, seemed to be unconcerned led me to believe there was no other animal around.

I got the papers, made the coffee, tried to proceed with my morning rituals.  But the thunking continued.  It was making me crazy.  And then, sitting here at the computer, I noticed movement outside the door.  I'd placed a large plastic jug out there, a receptacle for compostable material to sit before I got it out to the compost bin.  It was currently hosting some dead leaves I'd swept off the deck and the tops of a red onion I'd used earlier.

And then I saw it.  Something leaping up to the rim of the jug and then falling back down into the leaves.  A toad!  Poor thing had been trying all morning to get out of his prison but just could not scale the heights!  Thunk! each time he tried!

I tipped the jug over on its side to make it easier for the little guy.  It still took him a few thunking tries to figure it out, but he eventually found freedom.  Cute little bugger.  He sat still, probably amazed that he was no longer imprisoned.

And then I remembered my cat.  There she was, watching the little toad, planning her strategy.  Of course, by now I was in love with the toad and could not allow my cat to pounce.  With not a minute to spare, I scooped my cat up into my arms, inspiring the toad to hop away at the same time.  Three hops and he was in the herb garden.  I put the cat down, only to see her make a beeline for the herb garden.

There is no sad end to this story.  As far as I know, the little toad escaped my cat's murderous instincts.  I see no evidence of a dead toad in the garden.  At least, I choose to believe that he got away and is safe with his toad family somewhere.  Love lets me believe that.