We first heard him February 21st. Earlier than they usually get going. Two weeks later, silence for another two weeks. But then he was back. I’ve figured out that when it dips down below 50 F, he goes back into hibernation. Now it’s mid May, however, and he’s been gone for two weeks again. I don’t expect him back this time. He left out of frustration. After two and a half months of croaking, trying to reel in a girlfriend with zero results, he gave up. He either went in search of greener pastures, or got eaten by a bird. I’ll never know.
I hadn’t even given him a name yet. He was the most fearless one I’d ever had — rarely even bothering to jump into the water when I approached. He would just look up at me, with a dispassionate expression. As if he knew I couldn’t grab him through the grate, so why leap? A couple of times, with the grate off, I tried gently and cautiously to pick him up — but he would have none of it, so I didn’t keep trying. Here’s a picture of him. Always with at least one hand he’d be holding onto a stem of something.
Looks like the picture didn’t come over. I took a video by mistake, and it won’t come over as a picture. I’ll have to figure that out. Later.