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First, do not be alarmed. There are no foxes eating bunnies in this blog post. This is all about animals in the neighborhood, not birds (they get their own post) and not on the trail camera, also another post. Apparently as a librarian, I am super into sorting these animal posts. I did post this first so it would be the picture to go on Facebook, to lure you into the blog.
This is actually at my green thumb friend's yard. She gets lots of shade so still has chamomile going for this baby bunny to eat, but they didn't like my scrutiny so ambled into the undergrowth.
To watch warily, waiting for me to leave so they could continue to eat her chamomile.
And here is a picture of a more local bunny, that started it's life under Mom and Dad's porch, enjoying clover in their lush backyard.
Enjoy these fox picture below, taken with the cannon camera (but inside the house so still not great) of a fox hunting mice in the pasture.
The project you see on the right is drastically different and will get its own post later.
Fox has the mouse!
Well, that's all the charisma and jazz I have for you. It's time to discuss an animal that's a little bit more down to earth.
This toad, I first met in June (I know I am writing about June still!) I haven't named it but for as much as I see it, I should. Feel free to suggest names in comments. Anyway, it was during a really hot streak and I had been out gardening until dark and watering and I was just getting ready to head in for the night through the garage and then I noticed something underneath the car and just inside the back right tire. It looked like a rock...but a rock that big? I got slightly closer already guessing what it was and once it hopped, further underneath the car I was irritate and mildly terrified.
Wait a minute...could that be the toad from the chicken pen last year?
Is it the same toad from the garden, just not covered in mud? Just how many toads are on this property anyway? I mean, it's not like I'm numbering them with a yellow logging crayon...
Well we may never know. Toads this large in this day in age indicates a healthy garden and property so I'll swallow my phobia and be appreciative even if it leads to the occasional harrowing experience. I may delve into my toddler embedded toad phobia one of these days in a sketch but for now, or at least for this scene in the garage, I plucked up my courage and found something to nudge the toad back outside. It was so hot, I didn't think it would survive a hot day in the garage. As much as I don't like them in practice. I like them in theory and who wants a toad this big in their hot garage to take care of. I mean. Ick.
So at first the 48 inch yardstick waving around the floor under the car was enough to move the toad out. But rather than going out the garage door (right, it's never that easy) the toad hopped behind my large square galvanized tub of garden tools, in the little corner to the left of the left side of the garage door. I sighed. I considered leaving it there but I persevered. I'm not going to give you a blow by blow account of our sparring. I'm sure you can imagine me at ten o clock at night rattling this yardstick around the garage floor like a demented game of hockey, softly shrieking a little when sometimes the toad hops away from the yardstick and towards me rather than our of the garage. At one point, I managed to press the yardstick right against his butt and nudge him out the door. Even that gave me the heebie jeebies and watching its legs dangle out behind it with every hope just tripped the reptilian part of my brain...some part of me convinced despite all reason that this toad is going to jump 5 feet in the air and right into my face. I know. I know. It's a story for another time.
Do you see that space between it's plumb little legs? That's where I bravely pressed the yard stick all to save him. Once he was out I lectured him roundly and soundly on the garage being a hell oven for toads with a slow death wish.
I saw the toad on and off throughout most of July but not much since we got back from our camping trip to Michigan. This changed yesterday afternoon when I dumped the rain water out of one of our Gorilla carts. And right before I reached the cart in full, broad, hot, humid August daylight, a shadow darted, well as much as this little chub can dart out from under the shade. I pinwheeled back, shrieking (again) and chastised the toad for scaring me like that.
Clearly this toad is not sorry. I gritted my teeth and bent down mere feet away and emptied the water. Then I admonished the toad to get back under the shade like any same amphibian. See. I'm terrified of it and yet I still worry for it.
Toad Update:
After I drafted the above, I had another run in with my nameless garden friend who terrifies me. Just Monday night I was wrapping up watering when the toad was a mere 6 inches from the garage. I still had one more piece of gardening to do so I wasn't ready to shut the garage door. I was going to stand up to this toad!
I got the trusty 48 inch yardstick out and waved it (boldly) right in front of its nose which made it run straight at me. I shrieked, backed away and raced to the garage door where I hit the button to shut the door, hoping it didn't dart under the door at the last minute. Then, and this is the sort of radical transparency you get on this blog. I went out the back door to water the pots on the deck.
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