Warts and all, they really love their toads in Russia. And here is a little story about that.

On the shores of the Gulf of Finland, at the edge of the majestic City of St. Petersburg, Russia, lies the Sestroretsk Swamp.

And within this protected wetlands reserve is a nearly three-mile-long eco path that is said to be a popular walking trail with the local folks. But the area is heavily populated by gray toads. And since it is now early spring in St. Petersburg, the gray toads are doing what gray toads do in the spring: they’re getting ready to migrate.

“But the problem now is
That to reach that swamp,
There’s a busy highway
That the toad must tromp.”

Aw, jeez . . . Forgive me, but this story just cries out to become a folk song; and the tune of “Gonna Build A Mountain” keeps running through my tortured mind.

Anyway, it seems the toads must cross this busy road for some reason . . . most likely to get to the other side where the girl toads presumably live . . . thus endangering their lives. (If you’ve ever seen the drivers in Russia, you’ll understand this.) So the good people at the Sestroretsk Swamp Reserve are seeking volunteers, as they do each year, to undertake rigorous training in order to be able to escort the toads safely to their spawning grounds.

Okay, I’m sorry, but the mental image of this whole thing is just too funny. Supposedly normal people are volunteering their time to stop traffic so that these . . . let’s be honest now . . . seriously unattractive little critters can reach their destination and . . . well, you know. And I’m finding it really difficult to concentrate, because that tune is still invading my twisted brain.

“And when he gets there,
What’s he gonna do?
He’s gonna jump his little girlfriend,
Giving her a royal . . .”

Yeah, I’m really sorry now. But how irresistible is this story?!!

*. *. *

In any event, the point of this sordid song of the swamp — regardless of whatever you may think of me by now — is not to examine the sex lives of Russia’s gray toads, but rather to point out a peculiarity common to most Russian government officials. And that is, that they seem to value their animals far more than they do their people. People, after all, can turn against their leaders, and thus are dangerous and expendable; animals, on the other hand, are loyal and vital to the natural environment, and must be preserved.

So if the toads need crossing guards, then crossing guards they shall have, even if it means mobilizing every 60-year-old in the greater St. Petersburg area. Remember: In Russia, “Mobilizations Я Us.”

*. *. *

But what if, in some unforeseen, terrifyingly science-fiction way, those pampered (not to mention hormonal) amphibians — having become accustomed to being around their human helpers — began to take on human characteristics and were heard to croak out negative opinions about, say, the war in Ukraine, or the elimination of the liberal media? How would the government apparatchiks deal with these precious souls then?

Ooh, no-o-o-o-o-o!!! Froggy prison! No crossing the road for you, big fella. No little girl toad waiting anxiously for her lover boy to show up in that boggy bordello by the boulevard. And no conjugal visits in this prison colony either. If only you’d taken my advice and kept your big mouth shut, you could be a proud papa by now. And so, I can’t resist saying it:

“I toad you so!”

THE END

*. *. *

And yes, dear reader, there is a moral to this “Grimm” fairy tale . . . and you already know what it is. We are, after all, talking about Russia.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
4/17/24