Yesterday, I got to slosh around in slime and muck. No, I didn’t go to a Trump rally. It was because one of our pond goldfish refused to be netted and removed from the pond for the season. I waded in and prevailed by securing both goldfish along with 5 freeloading frogs.

I am happy to have helped facilitate the transformation of the two fish (bought for 25 cents each as feeder fish) from food to friends to freedom. I released them in a local pond where they can overwinter safely. Meanwhile, the frogs, who just helped themselves to our pond this spring like they do every year, were delicious. Just kidding. I released the frogs, too … into my belly!

I wish. I released them into the same pond. Any frogs still remaining in our pond will have to work their magic where they freeze semi-solid over the winter and then thaw back to life in the spring. I hear that’s an actual thing they do.

I already miss the fish. They were personable and friendly in an obvious attempt to get me to feed them more. They got big and fat early in the summer eating tiny toad tadpoles in the pond that were the result of tawdry toad sex in the spring. Unfortunately, I don’t normally keep tiny toad tadpoles around, so when the tadpoles were gone, I fed the fish stale cereal which they grudgingly ate from my fingers at times. And before I had to partially drain the pond yesterday, it was a quiet, peaceful place for me to retire from the world when I needed it. Take a look and see if you agree …

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