It’s early on a rainy morning here so naturally it’s more dark than light but my alarm still goes off just like it should. At 6:30 it takes me a little while to get vertical, serviced, dressed and become functional. I was at the kitchen counter trying to get my morning pills out of the pill caddy without scattering them. That can be a challenge with warm weather and high humidity; they stick to the plastic and to each other. If I’m not careful the whole cache can end up rattling around on the counter top or even on the floor. Two pill caddies, morning and bedtime, they date back a dozen years and the snap-caps have lost their snap. Their lids pop open while I’m liberating the stuck-together pills and pills escape like puppies through a hole in the fence. All together, morning and night I take nine nutritional supplements and two prescriptions that I could do without but my doctor says, “Just take them.” This morning, that’s what I was doing.
Wearing sandals, a T-shirt and shorts I felt something squirt on my ankle. I wasn’t ready for that, it was too early for a mystery and I was preoccupied with pills. There was nothing down there except for my feet. The squirt felt like water, I wiped it away with a paper towel and racked my brain for a reasonable explanation. There was none but the obvious next step was to shine a light on the dark floor and look. Nothing there except the floor and the cabinet but I looked again.
There, in the kick-space below the cabinet and in front of the kick-board was a tan blob the color of the floor. I bent over to shine the light closer and it leapt out and under the table. It was a treefrog, in that had squirted on my ankle. I grabbed a plastic cup and tried to capture the little amphibian but it was too fast for me and after the third try I didn’t see where it landed and with due diligence I kept searching. It had to be down there somewhere but I had looked everywhere and I gave up. It was not an unwelcome intruder like a mouse or a snake so no ref flags. I wanted then, still do, want to get it back outside where it can flourish and survive.
Thirty years ago in Michigan we had sliding glass doors that opened from the dining nook onto the patio. The dining table was the best place to grade papers and make lesson plans so I saw a lot of those doors. In late summer especially we had a pair of tree frogs that stationed themselves up on the outside of the glass door at night, feeding on insects attracted by the light from inside. One was larger than the other and they had names. The big one’s name was Toes and I can’t remember the little one. Life was good there in ’97 and the performing treefrogs made it even better.
I did some research on my little tan visitor and yes, they squirt a toxic spray in self defense. It’s enough to ward off predators but apparently not enough to damage me. (Dryophytes versicolor) or Gray Treefrog; they can also change color to blend in with the environment. Squirt, I’ll just call it Squirt; it was tan on the tan floor and probably threw me a curve by changing color. I have no idea how it got inside but I leave a night-light on over the kitchen window. I guess a fly might buzz the night-light but I doubt that Toes will be able to make a living in my kitchen. I’ll keep looking, see if I can come up with a better catch and release strategy.
The treefrog thing segues into another conversation. I have neighbors across the street who keep cats. By definition they are feral (domesticated animals that revert to a wild state either directly or through their descendants). The people feed the cats but they live outside which in effect makes people the pets. My yard slopes up to the house with a southern exposure and the cats love to sun in my yard and on my driveway. They climb on and under my vehicles with casual familiarity, even explore inside my garage if the door is up. These cats are absolutely fearless. They know when to fight and when to run and just how close you can get before they move away. Even then they retreat at the same speed you are approaching, stop when you stop and you can’t stare them down or shout them away.
Every year in spring and fall we get one or more new litters of feral cats. In my neighborhood the mortality rate for feral kittens is high. But at any time I can see and recognize 6 or 8 of my neighbors cats, some young and some mature but there is a constant turnover with no change in the way they behave. I’m sure they capitalize on pet food left outside by other neighbors. They prey on mice and voles, snakes and stalk birds at feeders. Young squirrels in the spring are also prey, before they learn that cats can climb trees too.
I tolerate feral cats but I welcome treefrogs wherever I find them. I would be disappointed to find the brittle little, bone dry remains of a treefrog somewhere in the house. Good luck Squirt and let me know if I can help you find the door. And: who said retirement would be boring?
Wearing sandals, a T-shirt and shorts I felt something squirt on my ankle. I wasn’t ready for that, it was too early for a mystery and I was preoccupied with pills. There was nothing down there except for my feet. The squirt felt like water, I wiped it away with a paper towel and racked my brain for a reasonable explanation. There was none but the obvious next step was to shine a light on the dark floor and look. Nothing there except the floor and the cabinet but I looked again.
There, in the kick-space below the cabinet and in front of the kick-board was a tan blob the color of the floor. I bent over to shine the light closer and it leapt out and under the table. It was a treefrog, in that had squirted on my ankle. I grabbed a plastic cup and tried to capture the little amphibian but it was too fast for me and after the third try I didn’t see where it landed and with due diligence I kept searching. It had to be down there somewhere but I had looked everywhere and I gave up. It was not an unwelcome intruder like a mouse or a snake so no ref flags. I wanted then, still do, want to get it back outside where it can flourish and survive.
Thirty years ago in Michigan we had sliding glass doors that opened from the dining nook onto the patio. The dining table was the best place to grade papers and make lesson plans so I saw a lot of those doors. In late summer especially we had a pair of tree frogs that stationed themselves up on the outside of the glass door at night, feeding on insects attracted by the light from inside. One was larger than the other and they had names. The big one’s name was Toes and I can’t remember the little one. Life was good there in ’97 and the performing treefrogs made it even better.
I did some research on my little tan visitor and yes, they squirt a toxic spray in self defense. It’s enough to ward off predators but apparently not enough to damage me. (Dryophytes versicolor) or Gray Treefrog; they can also change color to blend in with the environment. Squirt, I’ll just call it Squirt; it was tan on the tan floor and probably threw me a curve by changing color. I have no idea how it got inside but I leave a night-light on over the kitchen window. I guess a fly might buzz the night-light but I doubt that Toes will be able to make a living in my kitchen. I’ll keep looking, see if I can come up with a better catch and release strategy.
The treefrog thing segues into another conversation. I have neighbors across the street who keep cats. By definition they are feral (domesticated animals that revert to a wild state either directly or through their descendants). The people feed the cats but they live outside which in effect makes people the pets. My yard slopes up to the house with a southern exposure and the cats love to sun in my yard and on my driveway. They climb on and under my vehicles with casual familiarity, even explore inside my garage if the door is up. These cats are absolutely fearless. They know when to fight and when to run and just how close you can get before they move away. Even then they retreat at the same speed you are approaching, stop when you stop and you can’t stare them down or shout them away.
Every year in spring and fall we get one or more new litters of feral cats. In my neighborhood the mortality rate for feral kittens is high. But at any time I can see and recognize 6 or 8 of my neighbors cats, some young and some mature but there is a constant turnover with no change in the way they behave. I’m sure they capitalize on pet food left outside by other neighbors. They prey on mice and voles, snakes and stalk birds at feeders. Young squirrels in the spring are also prey, before they learn that cats can climb trees too.
I tolerate feral cats but I welcome treefrogs wherever I find them. I would be disappointed to find the brittle little, bone dry remains of a treefrog somewhere in the house. Good luck Squirt and let me know if I can help you find the door. And: who said retirement would be boring?
No comments:
Post a Comment