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blizzard warnings - 13:52 , 03 October 2013

heelerless - 21:32 , 18 August 2013

Red Coat Inn in Fort McLeod - 11:38 , 23 June 2013

rushing into the waters - 09:53 , 21 June 2013

choosing a spot - 17:43 , 27 April 2013

17 August 2003 - 23:53

wife's horny toad

We were walking back from the remains of E142, headed across the nearly open sand to the Dodge, and the waiting heelers, when the wife let out a squeal of excitement.

"A horny toad!"

Yep, another. That's like three, in a week.

Wife immediately had this one cornered against a thistle (had nearly stepped on her) and was reaching in to capture the little thing, when I asked her to hold off. To let me get a photograph in situ, so to speak.

Just about the same size as Tuesday's horned lizard. (Yes, Lisa, they're really lizards. Technically, eastern short-horned lizards. Phrynosoma douglasii.)

But definitely a lot lighter coloured. Wonderful cryptic match to the local sand. Once, long, long ago I saw a photo of one in National Geographic, from Craters of the Moon in Idaho. Absolutely gorgeous. Same pattern, but in dark reds, blacks and yellows.

Would they think me weird if I showed up at that National Monument and asked "Where are the horny toads?"

After I got my photos taken, the wife quickly rounded up the little squat lizard. And yes, the short tails are natural. And no, to the several of you who have asked, they're not even closely related to those Australian bearded lizards.

She said the horny toad was incredibly hot. 'Course, running around on hot white sand in the middle of the day, I guess so. Clearly after the ants hanging around the thistle plant.

No, Sister, we didn't make it dance.

But we did give her a drink, a couple drops of water directly onto the muzzle. And then a return to another thistle. Yes, she released it farther back from the road. Traffic is incredibly light there (got passed by one USFS truck, that was it), but you never know.

But the horny toad apparently did not want to go, prefering the wife's comfortably warm hand to the hot sand.

So the wife emptied the rest of the water bottle on the sand in front of and behind the horny toad, to cool it down some more, and we stepped back.

Long enough to see it forget about us and chase down an ant, smacking the lips in delight (and to kill the bug, I'm sure).

And off we went to the next benchmark.

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