Frog Prince

My yard has become a refuge. All of our adjacent neighbors (across the street and next door) love their lawns and faithfully mow, water and fertilize. The guy next to us goes a bit overboard on everything. He mows twice a week, hacking his poor grass down as low as his mower will go, then waters it constantly and douses it with fertilizers and pesticides and herbicides so that we can smell it driving up to our house.

As much as we don't like it, the wildlife around here doesn't care for it much either. This past spring, we saw an explosion of frog and toad life in our yard. Little, fingernail amphibians hopping all over the place. They really liked our front flower bed and the walkways in the front, so we had to be careful not to step on anyone when we went outside.

Eventually, they grew up and moved away as little frogs do, leaving a few siblings behind to hold the fort until next spring.

Including this little guy:

He lives in our garage. He appears to speak English. I started noticing him hanging around the washing machine. Sometimes he'd just sit there, maybe hoping I wouldn't see him and other times he'd make a mad dash for cover as soon as my face appeared in the doorway.

He got used to me after a while. Wet clothes seem to find their way to the floor in front of the washer (hello? it's RIGHT THERE! How about putting them into the washer rather than leave them on the floor????). Often I'd see his little face peeking out from under the wet clothing item of the day. Every now and then he'll brave the electric lawn mower. Rarely, he'll be sitting right in front of the step as if waiting to greet me, but he always chickens out and runs (hops) when I say "Hello, Little Prince!" or "Hi, Frog!"

My greatest fear is that he'll get tangled up in some t-shirt on the floor and I'll wash him by accident.

As a girl, I couldn't stand frogs or toads. My brothers tried to freak me out once by putting a rubber one in my stocking. I was forever being chased by boys clutching hapless toads in their extended hands. I don't remember when I got over it. I leave them alone, but I love their company and their songs. And the fact that the garage is now roach, flea and fly-free is a bonus.