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   It was still dark outside this morning when I poured myself a cup of coffee and headed for the porch with my trusty guard dog, Billie. Being a standard poodle, Billie is large and aggressive enough to protect his territory from most intruders. He will protect my wife and I from strangers and keep the deer and rabbits out of his yard, if he is not sleeping on the couch. This morning when we stepped out the door, he froze in his tracks. He did not bark, but I could tell there was something in the darkness that had him confused. He was not sure whether to attack or retreat to his safe place, behind me. I flipped on the porch light. A small toad hopped along the edge of the porch as Billy watched it closely. I assured him the toad meant us no harm. Not entirely convinced, he gave the toad a wide berth as he went to make his rounds in the yard. The toad was making his way to the end of the porch, gobbling down an occasional bug as he went when Billie returned. He again circled well around the toad, not sure of what it was. He is more familiar with frogs than toads.

   We have several tree frogs that frequent the porch. They mind their own business, eating bugs, and hop away if approached by a dog. Billie pretty much ignores the tree frogs. A person usually sees them early in the morning or near dusk. They spend most of the midday hiding in a shady spot, keeping cool. I discovered this one mid-morning when I went out to do some work in the yard. I always have a pair of shoes on the porch, near the back door, so I can change out of my good shoes when I am going to do something that will get them dirty. As I pushed my foot into the shoe, I felt something cool squirming under my foot. It is amazing how fast a person can remove a shoe when they discover something alive sharing space with their foot. I turned it upside down and shook my shoe. A fat little tree frog fell out looking at me like I was the rude one. I guess we all have our opinions.

   My wife was mowing the lawn around the cabin over the weekend. There is a sheet of plywood that has been stored, leaning against the back of the cabin for lack of any better place to put it. During a storm a few weeks ago, it blew over and was laying flat on the ground. My wife had told me I needed to do something with it or we would have snakes living under it. I should point out, my wife hates snakes, any kind of snake, live snakes or dead ones, and sticks on the ground that look like snakes. I was mowing some distance away when I noticed she was stopped near the back side of the cabin. I shifted my mower into high gear and made a direct path to the cabin. If she picked up that sheet of plywood and there was a snake under it, it would not be good for her, me, or the snake. I got over there before she got off her mower. When I went to pick up the plywood, she offered to help. I declined her offer saying it would rather defeat the purpose of my coming over there. She stepped back and yes, a snake was under there. My wife was happy I was the one to discover the snake’s hiding place. The snake did not know it, but he should be happy also.

   After the fact, we know we should not have been so startled by unplanned encounters with little wild creatures, but for some reason we are.

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