We had some guests over the weekend. Several were invited by my daughter for what is commonly known as a "sleepover," although this term, as we all know, is wildly inaccurate at best. In this case, it was more of a prowl-the-mall-eat-lots-of-pizza-watch-horrible-movies-collapse-in-the-wee-hours-over. They also ate waffles.
Several hours after the sun came up, but well before the sleeping beauties made their first appearance, I found this little guy camping in the chicken coop. I don't know how he survived the night in there, as my hens are as cranky at night as my daughter is the day after a "sleepover."
All the same, there he was, trying to make himself small and unnoticeable. Not an easy job for a fist-sized amphibian.
I figured it wouldn't be long before the birds found him and started beating on him, so I scooped him up and brought him outside.
I used the shovel because toads are notorious for pishing on people who dare to grab them, and I was so not in the mood for that.
I'm pretty sure he was grateful for the rescue, but it's a little hard to tell for sure.
He looks kind of suspicious here,
and positively curmudgeonly in this photo.
Here he is, safely back on the ground
and ready to begin his day.
I hope the dog doesn't find him.