I look out of my window and next to my newly built herb garden there is a frog or is it a toad? How on earth did it get there? The garden has five foot high walls and we are a good 100 yards above and half a mile away from the nearest wetlands. And what to do?
I have locked the cats away so they cannot get into the garden. I know that Tara would enjoy “playing” with the poor creature. I am worried that my garden is now drying out at a rate of knots as the sun is shining. And I’d rather that the poor little thing did not perish. So call the RSPCA in Bristol?
That I do and am sent on a maze of key #1 or key #2 options none of which seem to complete and leave me none the wiser. I really do not have all day for this and the useless not fit for purpose RSPCA is probably too busy prosecuting a fox hunter or campaigning against global warming to actually care about a poor animal.
Reluctantly I think I must try to scoop the poor fellow up and put him on the grassy lane at the back of the garage and let him take his chances. If he perishes, I blame the RSPCA. But that he has managed to make it this far shows he is a bit of a fighter.