A Little Brown Descendant

I saw something in our backyard today that I haven’t seen in 34 years.

I was sitting under the maple tree when I noticed something hopping across the paving stones.
It was a small toad, as brown as dirt. In fact, when it hopped up into a flowerrbed, I lost sight of it for a few seconds as it blended in with the earth so well.

On the farm we saw a lot of toads. Not many frogs as the only natural water source was a small creek that ran through the very back of the hundred acres.

Thirty-four years ago, I moved into the house where I still live, to find that it was already occupied. In one room in the unfinished basement, I found a very large toad. He was evicted without delay.

So maybe the little guy today was a descendant. Whatever he was, I was more delighted to see him than I was his ancestor.

©2020 Jim Hagarty

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.