My Summer Friends

Hydrant Toad

When I step into the horse's stall, I keep my eye out for Jet's Toad. This not-so-little guy spent his summer in her stall, eating bugs. And, I've been tip-toeing around, being careful not to scoop him up with the manure.

Outside the stall, near the water spigot, is Hydrant Toad. She climbs out from her gravel nest when I'm emptying and refilling water buckets.

And, in the garden, there is Mr. Toad who sits under the cucumber vine.

Mr. Toad

I've come to appreciate the toads that spend the summer in flower beds, under trees, in the garden and in the barn, gobbling up insects. A single toad can eat 10,000 over the course of summer.

They aren't as graceful as the insect-eating swallows that soar and dive over the pastures and ponds. But they are much more amenable to having their photos taken.

 Like the swallows, they will disappear this fall. The swallows will be gone within the week when they start their annual trek south.

The toads, though, will stick around for another month or two. Then they will burrow underground and hibernate until spring, when the insects return again.

I'm Going to Miss Them

The toads spent the warmer months startling me.

When I reached to pull a weed, I caught sight of a toad eyeballing me.

One staked out the geranium as his home and hunkered under the leaves as I watered the plants in the morning.

Others liked the gravel and bugs in the barn. One insisted on sitting in the doorway, and I learned to look for it before entering the barn.

Others lived under trees and hopped into the air when I approached with the mower.

I've never seen so many toads as I have this year.

And now, on this first day of all, they're still surprising me. When I went to fill the outdoor pets' water bowl, this guy glared at me. Had I interrupted his bath or swim?

When do you hibernate for winter? And where do you go?

And, will you come back next spring?

On Ticks and Toads

After an unusually cold winter, I was expecting less bugs this spring.

The fly population seems down, but the tick population exploded. In most years, I rarely find ticks on the dogs or myself after our June walks. But this year, I've found them.

Tonight, I found one intent on attaching itself to Caeli's lower eyelid. Luckily, we spotted it in time--and the Border collie was the ideal patient, holding still while I, after several tries, grabbed the tick with the tweezers.

The dogs will get their tick treatment earlier than scheduled this month.

Meanwhile, I've been tip-toeing around the toads. They're in the grass, in the garden, hiding behind the geranium, in the mulch pile, in the barn, around the barn.

I welcome the insect-loving toads.

Though, they aren't telling me where they spent the winter.

Or if they eat ticks.