Hoppy Holidays

This morning I let the dogs out as usual, walked down to get the paper, then went about feeding and watering the two bottomless pits. (Well, Marcus is more of a bottomless divot; the only time Sam has ever turned down food has been when he's terrified of a baby gate.)

Halt, toad! Who goes there?

Today a new curiosity awaited the boys, however: a toad had taken up residence in their water dish. I pointed him out to Sam, who seemed thoroughly flummoxed by the intruder, while Marcus wasn't the least bit interested. Sam kept sniffing the toad as it swam feebly around the water dish; when that failed to produce any results, he started pawing at the ground around the dish. What his goal was with this, I have no idea, but it seemed to make him happy, and after a moment he was digging at the ground around the dish with glee while the toad watched balefully from the water.

Sam's digging for fossils

At this point, I scooped the toad out and tossed him into some nearby leaves, which thankfully stopped Sam's digging. He's already inexplicably begun a hole on the edge of the driveway, which he keeps digging up every time we fill it in, and one giant hole in the yard is quite enough. Sam sniffed after the toad in the leaves for awhile, then gave him up as a bad job and went to find a stick.