The past week or so, it has been bucketing with rain. Which probably explains why two nights ago when returning back to the ranch, there not so far from the front door, right in full view of the world, sat a toad or frog. I'm not sure which creature it was, but what I can say is it was one of the biggest toad/frogs I have seen in quite a long time, in fact I probably haven't seen one as big as this. It was the size of the palm of my hand. The pavement was wet and a dull unenthusiastic rain descended. The Toad/frog who I shall call Fred for short didn't take much notice. It took so little notice I couldn't tell if it was interested in anything at all. Certainly Fred wasn't up to reading the Times newspaper, on account it would of gotten too wet for him. He was stationary. I wondered how on earth Fred could got to this place. At first walking along the street I thought Fred was a turd. I didn't let him know this on account of not wanting to hurt his feelings and all. Who knows, his brothers could of been hiding round the corner and they'd of come jumping out had I thrown an insult. He was content there. The night was warm and wet, what more could Fred want? Safety I expect. With cats, dogs, rats and foxes about Fred might easily appear as a tasty snack for any of them. When I advised Big Moma, her curiosity got the better and she had to run out and have a look, then proceed to prod Fred, who I was told wasn't a very good jumper, towards a cul-de-sac set of garages. I advised this wasn't a good idea, with cars going in and out, and the large pool of water which had collected there was likely to drain away, as it usually did. So Moma somehow took Fred under her wing and into the back garden. I've not seen or heard from him since. Though I can't say the same for the cat, who has remained quite on the subject.
However, what if Fred was actually a Frog and was previously a beautiful princess. O.K. what if Fred was actually Fredericka and a beautiful princess just waiting for the spell she was under to be broken. Broken by a handsome man with a single kiss. I hadn't thought of this at the time. On account beauty and brains don't go together, odd. But the truth be said I'm probably more brainy than I am handsome. So at the moment I saw Fredericka I was likely more handsome than I had been for a while. It was the street lighting which can hide all forms of facial deformities, the rain and thinking Fredericka was a turd. Then to a turd any bloke walking around would be handsome. I don't understand how this line of thinking has come about but I'm going to Vere away from it quickly. So somewhere on the little bit of waste land behind the back garden, eating flys is a beautiful princess. Unless of course she has been absconded by the fairies. Pesky things. In all probability Fredericka was just a toad and fishing around to see if life was different on the other side of the street/hill/pond or what have you.
So the moral of the story is quite simple, watch where you step because a turd in poor lighting could actually be a Fred or Fredericka.
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