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That Explains the Ribbiting

It was finally both warm and not raining at the same time this weekend, so I went out back to do my first lawn mowing of the year.

I found a frog. I named her* Hoppy.

My backyard frog, Hoppy

I almost killed her. I mowed right over her and the blessed creature had the presence of mind not to hop as gruesome rotating death roared overhead. I saw her when she hopped immediately after emerging from underneath the mower.

I've had frogs for years — I've heard ribbiting at night, at least. But this is only the second time I've seen one. The first time was last fall when I saw one hop underneath my air conditioner.

I don't know much about frogs, but this one seems pretty small, leading me to wonder how old it is and if perhaps I have a whole family of 'em somewhere. If I find more, I'll let you know. :)

*I speculate the frog is female because after hopping out of my hands the first few times I tried to take a picture, she soon realized that my hands are warm and soft and very pleasing, and then enjoyed the situation. I have observed this response to be typical of females.

Tiny Island