I am…the frog whisperer

As is obvious if you’ve seen previous posts by me, I adore toads. I adore frogs, too, although I see them less often around here. But last night, after a day of steady, light rain, the tree frogs made their presence known with their exuberant singing. Well, “singing” is not the right term; “throaty croaks echoing in the neighborhood” is better. There was one particular frog, hidden among the ferns that envelop the small pond that’s just behind the house, that was making frog-noise so loudly that it sounded as if it was in the house. Of course roomie and I went out to investigate, even though we knew we’d never actually find the little guy. I’m just assuming he’s little, as tree frogs usually are, although the sound he was making sounded like he could have been the size of the Big Freaking Toad.

We went outside, and he was “rrrraaaaakkk raaaaaaakkk rrraaaaakkkk”-ing at the top of his lungs, and I just had to answer. It’s kind of like when you see cows in a field, and you just have to say “mooooo” in the most cow-like way you can (come on, you know you do it). So, in my best imitation of the frog, I replied with: “rrraaakkk rraaakk rraaakkk.” To which came the immediate and enthusiastic response, “RRRAAAAKKK! RRRAAAKKK! RRAAAKKK!” Trying hard to keep my mad giggling to myself lest I scare the little guy into silence, I kept croaking back at him, and he kept answering. I could have stayed out there conversing all night.

What amuses me is to wonder just what the heck I was saying to him. Was he cursing at me? Flirting with me? Scolding me? Laughing at me? If only I could know… *imagines frog telling his frog-buddies at the frog-pub about the ridiculous human who tried to Talk Frog*