If Joe Was Named Chuck, I Would Say: "What's Up Chuck?"

Joe is an early riser. This morning I got up around five. The horizon to the east was pretty dark... maybe a hint of dawn, a subtle hint at best. I opened the shades and there was this dark bump on the surface of the pond. Joe was up too.

It's never really dark in our back yard unless there is a power outage. The house behind us used to be in the country and just last year was annexed into the city. Since the place used to be in the sticks, so to speak, it has it's own street light right in the middle of the property. I don't care much for it but there's nothing I can do about it either. Anyway, there is a reflection on the pond made by the street light that makes it pretty easy to see Joe.

Ya know, maybe it should be called a yard light since the only thing close to a street that it illuminates is a pretty long driveway. Yep, I think it is probably a yard light. I don't like the yard light any better than I liked the street light.

I did my usual. Fill the bird feeder, water the hanging plants, fix breakfast. When I was eating I kept an eye on Joe and the birds. This morning there was a female quail visiting. She was very similar to the who-who birdies. A little thinner, a little taller and the feathers, while the same color as the who-who's, were smoother. The female quail are similar to the who-who's but much more elegant looking... In my ever so humble opinion.

From time to time I watched a bird land on one of the flat stones. I was thinking that the bird could make a choice here that could doom it to the belly of a green bullfrog or live another day. If the bird hopped straight ahead to the waterfall to get a drink Joe would try to have it for breakfast. If, by chance, it were to turn and hop down to the lower pond the bird would never know what could have happened. I guess this type of scenario goes on all the time with all creatures... including you and me.

Two times this morning I watched birds make the wrong choice. They hopped down near the waterfall presumably to get a drink. Joe was on station and tried her best to snatch the bird. Both times the birds were quicker than the frog and Joe was left sitting on the flat stone but not before a very nice leap, sail through the air, and splat on the rock. I gave her an 8 both times.

I was watching a thing on PBS this past weekend about the frog jumping contests they have in Calaveras County, California. It looked to me like hundreds of Joe's cousins, uncles, aunts, brothers and sisters were there. Most bullfrogs apparently didn't know the agenda because they would only jump a short distance. But once in a while one of those frogs made folks take notice. The record jump is over 21 feet!!! That is really 3 jumps totaling 21 feet but any way you count it, that is impressive. Joe jumps pretty good but I don't think the world record holder has to worry about her.

Some of the people at this thing were very interesting. They just live for the annual fair and frog jumping contests. Collecting frogs, keeping them healthy in preparation for their Andy Warhol minutes of fame. Some keep them in the same water they were found so they won't be traumatized by the new environment. One guy had a trailer with all these numbered drawers. The drawers were about the size of a small post office box. Inside each drawer is a bullfrog. They are kept happy with water that circulates through each box. The whole family is involved. Sounds good to me.

So I was just sitting at the table, day dreaming, when I noticed 2 birds land on one of the flat stones. Joe predictably submerged. Then his eyes popped out of the water at the edge of the stone. One of the birds was only about 8 or 10 inches from Joe and had it's back to the water and it's back to Joe. POW! Joe snatched the bird from behind, pulled it quickly into the pond and within seconds had it turned around so the bird was headed down the hatch tail last. The whole thing lasted only 3 or 4 seconds. I guess the third try was the charm for this gluttonous green machine.

Joe sat at the waterfall for a little while with the birds tail feathers sticking out of her mouth. I went outside and looked at her. She was still fat. Shortly after this picture was taken Joe slipped away to her home under the bridge.

So how do I know Joe has a place under the bridge you may ask? First my granddaughter saw Joe the last time she was here. She was hanging over the bridge with her hair floating in the pond. She was hollering that she could "see the frog. It was right there and wasn't moving." That was a pretty good clue don't you think?

The second thing that got me to thinking Joe was under the bridge this morning was when I was going across the bridge and looked down into the pond. A dead bird was floating out from under the bridge!

I suppose a bird could have just croaked, fallen into the pond and, doing what dead birds do, float downstream to the skimmer. Or it could have been snorkeling, got tangled up with an octopus that tore away it's scuba gear thus drowning the creature (would it still float if it drowned?). Or it could have been one of those great white sharks that prey on bullfrogs mistaking the bird for a bullfrog. Now that is kinda hard to believe because the bird isn't even close to the color green and there was no blood visible on the bird body.

I think Joe puked. Why would Joe puke up a perfectly fresh meal. I have a theory but, of course, I can't prove it so it will remain a theory. My theory is Joe has a feather ball. Yep, this is something related to a fur ball that cats and some dogs get. Joe has eaten so many birds that all the feathers have accumulated into a huge feather ball. That is why she looks so fat. She needs to purge the feather ball, vary her diet a bit and she will be as good as new.

I'm a little concerned with mother nature here also. I haven't interfered with the natural order of things in my backyard. OK, I feed the birds. I guess that isn't natural but the pond isn't a natural thing either. So they cancel each other out (two unnaturals equal a natural... basic math). My concern is with the frog taking the bird and not eating it. It doesn't seem right that Joe would go to the trouble of hunting, capturing, killing and swallowing the bird just to puke it up. I'll have to keep an eye on Joe... maybe there is a feather ball. Or maybe it was a 30 foot anaconda wrapped around Joe squeezing.......