Should We Sing the Swan Song for Joe?

Thursday last, about 10 AM, marked 1 week that Joe has been missing.  I've searched the ponds for submerged bodies... nothing.  I checked the skimmer... just some leaves and some alien looking insects.  I've walked the backyard from low to high... nothing.  I even laid down on the bridge, schooched myself over the edge so I could see under and saw nothing.  That could have been because when I got my head up-side-down my glasses fell off... had to fish them out of the pond.  No sign of our heroine.  I guess I might as well step up to the obvious.

I'm backing away from the supernatural.  Pushing back from the devil worshipers.  Embracing the tried and true ways of Mother Nature. 

Maybe the dead bird was really a piece of mulch blown against the fence.   The toadlets lifeless bodies floating toward the skimmer were probably casualties of the pump/pipe/waterfall ride.  The first batch of toadpoles probably did get their land legs and move on.  And Joe... well, Joe was so fat she couldn't hop more than a foot or so.  She was a glutton. She preyed on those cute little poop machines we call sparrows and finches which didn't endear her to many be they human animals or regular animals (I think that's the technical term). 

So Joe is gone.  Maybe she is dead.  Maybe a victim of a B-52 fly-by (still dead if this is the case).  Maybe called by Mother Nature to fulfill her calling and become a mother and, to that end, living with some rich bullfrog in the storm drain. We will never know.  We just know she is gone.  It was very interesting... very.

Who will now rise above normalcy?  What typical creature will become atypical?  Will another unique creature fill the void and become the next hero/heroine of my backyard?  Will we have to rename Joe's Pond and Joe's Station?

Hey, Mama N. bring 'em on!