That is, until recently when we noticed we weren't hearing his croaking any more. We talked among ourselves, the hubby, son and I, and agreed that no, none of us had heard the frog lately. We scratched our heads and theorized that a large bird had perhaps swooped down and "removed" him.
Today, though, I KNOW what happened:
<------- This guy moved in.
I suspect the frog was his lunch one fateful day.
I do not want to encourage these behaviors. I've always taught my children to be nice to their friends, and certainly not to dine on them.
Here he is just making himself at home near our rocks and waterfalls.
|Do you see him?|
I decided to call in our local Livestock Retrieval/Removal/Relocation/Repurposing Team (son Caleb), and he handily took care of business.
|Do I see a flattened frog-shaped lump in that belly?|
I know snakes are good for the environment, they keep other pests at bay, they decrease the bug population, and blah, blah, blah. Sorry Bruce, sorry Dizzy Dick. I. Don't. Like. Them.
This is my living space and they are not welcome here. Goodbye.
I've got a feeling this adventure is not in its last chapter, though. The neighbor two doors up told us he had three in his garden the other day.