Toad rustling

In August 2000 we inherited Bob's aunt and uncle's blue Australian Shepard. His name was Blue, of course, and he was the best. We walked him every night at 10:00 and more often than not there would be a toad in the road. For a while I picked them up and put them in the grass. Then I started carrying them home. They always peed in my hand. Never got a wart, thank goodness. I still bring them home and put them in the back yard. One would think I'd never have another mosquito. Think again.

I've been welding stars. Before I grind them clean I quench them in this quenching tub. Wasn't looking when I put a star in today and there was this little toad swimming in my tub. I don't know who was more afraid when the star touched the water and sizzled. We both jumped.

To apologize, I grabbed the toad and put him on this water bucket. He stayed there so long, must have been traumatized. When I took his picture he decided this was the last indignity and jumped away, hopefully to have a nice meal of mosquitoes.

I've continued the tradition with the BlackJack walks. The skin on my left hand (the toad carrying hand) is yellowish compared to the right. But the toads that use to be in the road are safe in my back yard.