Morning coffee on the patio, the little frog in the fountain starts talking. Little buzzes, croaks, and burps. We’ve seen him there before. When we take the fountain apart to clean it, he jumps out and startles us. He lives in the rocks stacked around the base. Sometimes we see him hopping around in the dark at night.
This is the first time we’ve heard him though. Maybe our little frog is growing up and has just hit puberty. Anyway, we’re sitting there listening to him muttering and Judy realizes that every time she pours bleach into that fountain (about once a week) to knock down the algae that wants to grow there, she’s also dosing the little frog. That must be one tough little guy.
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