WEEK ONE: A frog misplaced


What the heck was I looking at, anyway?  The weirdest creature to cross my kitchen floor in a long while was shuffling clumsily across the tiles – some kind of furry bundle that was half-amphibian and half-laundry lint.  I crouched down and discovered a brown tree frog encased within a shroud of debris.  The poor fellow looked like he had gotten in a fight with a squadron of dust bunnies and lost.  Its sticky toes had acquired enough fuzz and hair to create a woolen vest for itself, along with matching legwarmers.  Even an armored pillbug had gotten trapped in the frog’s fluffy coattails and was being dragged along like a child in a sled.

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