Hubby spent too much time gawking at "Feces the Frog" and the damed thing managed to escape down the toilet pipe before he could grab it. He tried plunging and flushing, to no avail (I also flushed all toilets a good 30 times throughout the day...and "held my water", so to speak).
So that night, we're having a pool party. As we're enjoying our ribs, wings and vodka tonics, Hubby appears from the house clutching a large frog in his hand and joyously announced that "Feces has reappeared!!" (he was beside himself with 6-year old glee). The frog still had a lotta life left in him, 'cause he kept leaping out of Hubby's grasp, causing the gals (especially me) run screaming for cover. I finally convinced him to set Feces free and then made him go wash his hands... with soap.
Our party theme song for the remainder of the evening: "Hello mah honey, hello mah baby, hello mah ragtime gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaal..."
Apparently they live real close to nature in Florida. Here's another pic from Sister:
This catfish was found flopping on their front walk after a rainstorm*. No, they don't live on the water. Best guess is a bird dropped its supper. She said at first they thought it was the paper. OK, that would freak me out.
Geez, the closest nature encounter at my house is the occasional banana slug on the front porch.
* I wish I could show you her hubby's face in the pic -- it's priceless. Sheer, unbridled joy. But I won't. Last thing the poor guy needs is to be associated with this sleazy operation.