You might recall that in the wet days of spring, we stopped the languageandgrammar.com presses just long enough to save nine ducklings from certain demise (Jeff Corwin, Move Over) alongside a busy road. Spring is technically not over yet, and we recently jumped into action once again, trying to save a tiny toad from a similar fate.
As languageandgrammar.com was enjoying an evening walk as a much-deserved break from blogging, we noticed what appeared to be a large cricket jumping across the sidewalk. In a manner similar to how we analyze the effectiveness of grammar, further inspection revealed that it was not a cricket but, rather, a toad the size of a nickel. He was quickly headed toward the street–where we didn’t think that he would fare well against 2,000-pound cars and 6,000-pound buses.
Now experienced wildlife rescuers, we jumped into action with the polish and precision of an Olympic Synchronized Swimming Team. Sherry placed her massive foot (massive in comparison to a tiny toad, not massive for a grammar expert!!) in the toad’s path. With his path effectively blocked, I tried to lift the tiny toad and turn him around in the direction of a small lake (o.k., drainage pond). The little amphibian instantly pulled his tiny legs toward his body and crouched himself down on the pavement as if he were going to be able to stubbornly resist this unwanted assistance.
Not wanting to injure the toad, I decided that it was safer to use a leaf to nudge him toward the grass and water. It took a little prodding, but he soon jumped into action and headed in the right direction. After he jumped onto the grass, we noticed that he had quite a few siblings hopping around with him.
We hope that he passed on the warning about the massive foot and rude leaf.