Boozilla: learning to fly one room at a time
I’m not sure, but the toad who lives in the yurt with us- and it is a Bufa, not a Rana- he seemed a bit upset with me the other night. And it was HE who secretively crept up to the top of the bucket I was using to fill the small swamp cooler (85 degrees at 11 pm! This is the life!) and cocked his little head. Scaring the daylights out of me. Silly I felt, yes. I emitted a bit of a yodel of surprise, yes. But I IMMEDIATELY apologized, praised his nimble and handsome toadness, and set him down gently. He escaped into the wine storage area, confirming my initial assessment of his intelligence.
The next night? He flattened his growing and greener body (and it is amazing just how flat these little beings can get themselves) in the middle of the red pad on the kitchen…
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