Yesterday, Jack caught a tiny toad (which he still considers a frog). He kept it over night in a makeshift container and it survived. Early today I was trying to convince him to let it go free or it might die. He asked why. I said it's probably very hungry and needs to eat. So he figured he'd go catch a fly for it. He removed the toad from the container and wandered all over the yard while grasping the poor little thing (and with a little sister in tow). Soon he comes to me with a different tone- barely holding it together. "I think I accidentally killed him." He opens his hand and there is the toad on it's back with one leg off to the side, very still. I immediately say "nope, he's in deep shock. we need to set him down in the grass and the rain will revive him!"
And that's exactly what Jack did.
1 comment:
Oh, sad story! But adorable picture. I'd forgotten about it, but now I totally remember catching tiny toads like that way back in the day in Eagle River.
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