I took a picture of this smashed frog today as we were hiking up the Ribeira de Torre, just to prove, I guess, that at least at one point some such creature existed here in this arid land. We continued on, some kilometres up the road.
At the point where we stopped and turned around, we saw this very businesslike dog.
We finished our Sprites--delicious as only long, hot treks and a serendipitous mini-mart with a fridge can make them--and began back down the hill.
Periodically, when we could tear our gazes away from the unreal landscape, we noticed the dog, still making his way down the hill preceding us. Suddenly, maybe a quarter kilometer in front of us, he veered to the sidewalk and flung himself down, where he proceeded to roll back and forth with great focus and pleasure.
"Do you think he's rolling in the frog I took a picture of?" I asked Ian.
The dog stood up as we approached and brought himself back to reality, then with one last spurt of abandon, rubbed his face all over the sidewalk, then trotted on his way down the hill.
By this point we were close enough to recognize the big yellow leaf also in my picture and see that sure enough, he was rolling in the frog, flat and desiccated though was--the one dead animal (aside from caught fish) we've seen anywhere around.
Dogs are funny.
one-fingered on my phone