Late last night I let Bronson out, waited by our entrance and peered through the glass watching for him. When he arrived, I pulled open the door and suddenly a toad hopped into the house. I screeched, Bronson was oblivious, and Toad scooted around our sofa, past a chest of drawers, then disappeared.
I did not intend to go to bed until the darn thing was evicted. Out of the blue, he leaped onto the ceiling. Then swiftly bounded down and was lost again. I finally gave up hunting, decided to assume he’d be frightened of us and probably wouldn’t end up in our bed.
Got up early this morning, toddled to the kitchen and guess who was right on the counter? Stupid Toad! He must have been sleeping. He didn’t move a muscle when I screamed. I immediately decided ejecting toads fell into the “guy” job category, like unclogging toilets and taking out the garbage.
Jim has just gotten out of the feathers. He peered at our unwanted houseguest, grabbed a laundry room rag and simply dropped it over Toad. He then gathered it up and tried to hand it to me. NOT!
So he tossed the whole package onto our front porch. An hour later the cleaning lady, Ana, showed up. She saw the bright yellow cloth, picked it up and out popped Toad. He jumped onto the glass front door. For a minute I thought we’d have a repeat performance–into the house, around the sofa, past chest of drawers, onto the ceiling.
Happily, Ana had the presence of mind to bat it away.
The wildlife in Florida is unique. We’ve had armadillos burrow into our garden, turkeys stroll through the yard. Recently a gecko invaded the kitchen.
All in all, though we’ve been lucky. Several years ago the family three doors down from us woke to find an alligator in their pool!