24/366: The Box

I have a little pond in my backyard, fairly close to the house.

We put it in to eliminate all the greenery that we had near the house that housed a plethora of little mice.  Mean mice.  Mice that found a way into my home, under the heater.  With those creepy nails scratching at my carpet.  Luckily, they never made it into the living space, but we heard them and saw their little freaky feet.

Back to the Pond.  During the winter, I change out the fountain and filter with an aerator.  Simple pump with a tube that has a spongy looking hard block at the end that creates bubbles.  The pump is stored in this tool box that was modified with a couple holes and an exhaust tube that resembles a periscope.

Last year it worked great and I only lost one fish (I didn't expect that one to make it anyway, he was an indoor fish).

This year, the pump has been running hard.  Making a loud humming noise as if it were knocked around or suffocated.  (Do you get were I am going?).

My mind began to imagine that cute little family of mice, taking up residency in my pond pump box.  The warmth of the pump, the shelter, I didn't think it was a stretch.

I had asked Tom to open the box for me as I am frightened of what I may find.  I worked myself up so much that my heart was racing when I finally got up the nerve to go out and check yesterday.  I had a clear path for running as I slowly listened and flicked open the latch.  Deep breath. 

With my nervous hands, I flung open the box and knocked it a bit and jumped when I saw the frozen frog!

A frog fell right out at my feet.

The resin frog.  The decorative frog that is my fountain in the summer.  Nicely stored in the box.  I had forgotten I stored it in there.

I'm such a dork.  I was scared of something I did myself.

And the mice?

None.  The box had some water on the bottom and I believe the noise was due to an un-level footing for the motor.

Frog.