Sammie’s Bad Behavior and Sweet Husband’s Folly

Mr Frog

I just had to share these two little stories. The first is about Mr. Frog.

Samantha, our (mostly) Russian gray cat, has a bad habit. And I mean BAD! She has a kitty door to come and go at will. That eliminates the litter box, which Sweet Husband cannot stand the smell of and the narrow opening allows her to slide through without being followed. We got that straight after we entertained and fed her numerous feline (and other) friends. However, it does not block anything she’s carrying in her mouth.

You see, we have always played with her in the living room. Her favorite toy is a doodad on the end of a string connected to a pole. We call it kitty casting. We always “catch” a kitty! Anyway, she considers that room her play area. Thus, it makes sense she would bring her outdoor “toys” there to play with them.

What are her outdoor toys? Why, birds and garter snakes and mice and yes, frogs. This is the first year for frogs. Except for the mice, I make every attempt to save the lives of her poor toys. She is separated from her prey and the visitor is coaxed out a window or carried back out to its natural habitat.

One day, after I had just vacuumed, I was standing in the kitchen looking down the hall towards the bedroom. I saw a heap of dark on the wood floor, which without my glasses looked suspiciously like poop. Sammie has always confined her bathroom habits to the outdoors, so I was very dismayed. I grabbed my glasses off the counter and looked again. Lordy-mercy, it was this little guy.

He sat as if dead. In farm vernacular we call that “playing possum”. I sprang into action, grabbed a paper towel and gently picked him up while Sammie watched. I took him out beside the pond and left him there, still frozen in fear. On the way back to the house I remembered the camera. When I turned it on I discovered it needed new batteries. Surely he would be gone by the time I got back out there. But no, there he was, in the exact same place. I snapped away, worried he was fatally injured. He did hop away a few minutes later. I know he was okay, because he came calling again this morning. Sammie is not necessarily interested in killing, just playing. I wish she would stop this bad behavior.

Second story:

I went to a plant exchange party at a friend’s house and won the door prize, which was a lovely wooden box full of garden stuff. In that box was a resin red cardinal. I promptly took it out to the tree stump (home of the future fairy garden) and placed it there in full view of the patio door.

A few days later, Sweet Husband confessed to seeing it and excitingly snapping photos using the zoom from the deck. When it didn’t move after several minutes, he walked closer and discovered his folly.