At Rest on a Black-Eyed Susan

     It never occurred to us that the tiny tree frogs that we occasionally see among the fuchsias in our hanging baskets are different from their larger cousins.  We thought they were just a smaller version of the plain old garden variety frog – the kind of frog you hear croaking in the woods in the spring, hoping to have a fine family of tadpoles that will stay hidden from small boys with big jars.
     But they are not the same at all, which explains why we kept finding their desiccated little bodies in unexpected areas of our house. The first time was after we’d spent a long weekend in Seattle.  Right in the middle of our tiled bathroom floor was a dried out, very dead tree frog.  It sort of freaked me out.  Where had it come from?  Up a drainpipe?  Out of the toilet?  I’ve heard about alligators and rats getting into toilets from sewers and septics.  Why not a frog?
     Not too much later, we found another ‘specimen’ on the library carpet.  And, still later, one on the kitchen floor.  It was giving me the willies.  Then, one night as we were watching television, out of the corner of my eye I caught a movement that shouldn’t have been there.  When I turned to look, there was a tree frog making its way up the drapes.  Nyel saw it at about the same time; he was calm, at least outwardly; I was a bit frazzled.
     But that little climber gave us our clue.  Adjacent to the curtains was a small table with a bowl full of gorgeous dahlias.  Ah ha!  That particular year we’d had a bumper crop and I had put vases of dahlias everywhere – kitchen, bathroom, bedrooms, you name it.  So, the tree frogs must have been coming in on the dahlias.
     After that, I kept my eyes open for them as I picked my bouquets and, sure enough, I soon saw a little green snout barely sticking out from between the flower petals.  It seemed odd to me, though, that I had never washed them out of their hiding places.  Dahlias harbor earwigs and it is my habit to hold each dahlia under cold running water to wash the earwigs down the drain and into the garbage disposal.  But no frogs had ever been dislodged.
     A bit of research revealed several interesting things about these little creatures with the big voices.  For one thing, they are climbers, not hoppers.  Their padded toes help them climb up flower stalks as well as tree trunks and they are sticky, as well, which is wonderfully useful when it comes to hanging on.  Also, tree frogs don’t really like direct sunlight.  They tend to tuck themselves away and the petals of a dahlia blossom offer many delightful hiding places.  As a further protection, some varieties can blend in with their backgrounds like chameleons.
     I continue to be vigilant when picking dahlias and we haven’t had a frog invasion for a long time.  And, when I do see tree frog, I can’t help but apologize for whatever depletion I may have inadvertently caused its family tree ( you know, the other kind.)  But I still feel guilty.