Summertime brings toads to our garden. They hang out by the tomatoes, under the tulips and are just well, toads.
They also get stuck in the window wells.
And they can’t get out.
And I feel bad. It’s a poor fate for a toad, to be stuck in a window well in 90+ degree weather. So a couple times a week, I gather my little garden shovel and Samantha’s sand bucket, climb down into the window well, and rescue my toady friends.
Today I rescued three little guys from the window well. Upon climbing out with bucket and shovel in hand, I found a newly-rescued, Mr. Toad sitting in the grass giving me the stink eye.
He didn’t look very happy with my valiant rescue attempts. I fact, he looked a little pissed. Before I started throwing a little Well what’s your problem Mr. Toad???? attitude, it hit me……
Maybe he has worked his whole life to live in the window well. Perhaps in Toadville a cozy little hole in the well is considered prime property, no snakes, no birds….perhaps I had just robbed Mr. Toad of his life long ambitions with a single swoop into the Dora the Explorer sand bucket.
Who do I think I am, to nonchalantly relocate my neighbor into the big, exposed, backyard without even asking?
I felt kind of bad. I apologized to Mr. Toad but he continued just to stare. Then I thought maybe it’s just Mr. Toad’s nature to be kind of grumpy.
So I watered the geraniums.
Yeah, slow day at the Schichtel household.