The Toad

I think Betsy would eat anything that didn’t eat her first if given the chance. Heck, that’s how she got herself into those tequila shots on Amanda’s birthday and almost killed for the brand new shoes of Amanda's, but her obsession lies primarily with things that live and move. She wants so badly to catch critters but thank goodness she lacks the skill to catch much since she has no idea what she would do with it afterwards. She reminds me of our little kitten Benny back when we still thought he was a girl and she caught a mouse. After catching the mouse, “Bethany” wouldn’t let it go and ran around and around with it in her mouth, unsure of what to do but sure that she didn’t want to share her glory with anyone.

Well, Betsy has two friends in particular that she wants to become better bonded with. The random worms, spiders and puffball miniature pets roaming our complex but what Betsy really wants and the holy grail that drives her crazy are rabbits and the toad. Rabbits are thankfully far too fast and alert for Betsy on the average day but there have been some mornings where she spins around the corner on her leash and I barely hold on before yelling out to her, reminding her that it’s morning and we’re not off to hunt right now.

The rabbits are so plentiful that I couldn’t ever identify just one but the bunches of them are always out there, around every corner, hiding in every bush and just waiting to surprise Betsy, so she’s always on the alert. Not wanting to waste a single opportunity she continuous pops her head into bushes and sniffs around for any sign of them, and then as if to get that closer, more intimate relationship between hunter and hunted, she tries to eat their droppings. Dogs seem to have a strange obsession with feces, something I’ve been trying to talk out of her since the day we got her.
But what she wants more than anything else in this world is the toad. He hopped into her life one day similarly to how she prances around the house every day during playtime. Jumping right across our path she was awe-stricken and immediately obsessed. So obsessed was she that she barely took the time to squat down and pee before running back, jumping through the herb basket and finding… no toad there. While she was gone I had ushered him into the garden where he would be hidden in the dark. That didn’t stop me from being mad at her for flipping the herb basket and so far we have everything growing in the wrong place because of that.

When it gets late at night, the toad hops out to have a look around for tasty treats. Betsy is always laying by the window, jealously observing his movements and I’m not sure if she wants to be out there playing with him or eating him but common sense has reinforced in me the belief that her intentions will not lead to happy days for the toad. The toad and I go way back to last fall when I accidentally sent him to an early hibernation by nearing squishing him to death under my shoe before helping him hobble into the neighbor’s flowers. I washttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif glad to see him return and am bound and determined not to let Betsy be the end of him now. So she sits and waits, waits and whines, whimpering about how unfair life is that she can’t be out playing with the toad.

Credit to legalectric.org for toad pic.