Last year I found a frog who'd had his leg shut in the sliding door over night.
I tried to save him, put him in a box with some grass and water but his leg had all dried out and he couldn't move.
I decided euthanasia was kinder than a slow and painful death.
But I couldn't bring myself to actually kill it.
So I decided putting it in the chook cage would be the kindest thing to do as it would be eaten in a nanosecond.
Only it didn't quite work out that way.
I'll spare you the gory details but there was a fight over froggie and it was pretty nasty.... more than one chook ended up benefitting from froggie's demise.
So, fast forward a year or so and I was going in to the chook cage to clean out their water bucket when I saw....
a rather LARGE frog in there.
I have no idea how it climbed into the cage and got in the bucket without being detected by the chooks but it did.
And by some very watchful and well timed diving it had avoided consumption.
Must have been some pretty close shaves, huh?
Anyway, here was my chance to finally rid myself of froggie torture guilt and restore some karma.
I would rescue the frog and let it frollick again in the wide wide world.
I tried catching it but it was a little slippery and very good at evasive manuoveres (hence it's current predicament, huh?) so I decided to pick up the whole bucket and just tip it out with the water in the gap between the roof and side fences of the chook cage.
I was slowly and carefully tipping while thinking of baby and bathwater sayings and feeling the glow of my new improved froggie karma when there was a flash of green....
The darn frog had not trusted my motives and thought I was the dangerous one and made a great leap for freedom- into the chook cage.
It was NOT pretty.
This was a LARGE frog.
Too big to be eaten in one greedy chook gulp.
It was carnage.
Worse than last time.
I give up.