My Frog Totem

     He is a green fellow not quite as big as my thumb -- a squirrel tree frog, if I correctly read the  reference sources.
     We see him in the spring. He arrives unannounced.  We may first  spot him clinging to the outside of a den window. Or sometimes he chooses the window over the kitchen sink. Apparently he likes to watch us between our chores and at them, too.
     He seems to have a bold look in his eye. Perhaps they all do. I wouldn't know, as this is the only squirrel tree frog I have ever met. Or perhaps I infer boldness from his behavior.   When I step right up to the window pane for a nose-to-nose encounter, he is unperturbed.  I especially remarked the time he decided to join us at table.
     We had family in for a meal. A granddaughter announced -- with noteworthy aplomb -- that she could not sit because a frog occupied her chair. Sure enough, there he was, green as nature itself.
     Caught out, he hopped under the table.  This occasioned quick agreement on a goal of shooing him outside uninjured.    Execution of the agreement was not as smooth.  Several adults put head and shoulders under the table and opened a debate of the frog's precise whereabouts (he is quite small, after all) and the best means of inducing him to leave.   A couple of noggins got bumped in the undertaking, and no audible agreement was reached.
     The frog soon hopped out of the scrum on his own.   He was, indeed, uninjured. To my eye he was also unimpressed. At his own pace he made his way to a back door and waited there for one of us to let him out. The scrum took a bit longer to sort out.
     Literature, legend  and tradition are full of animal imagery.  From the ancient Greeks through Aesop and beyond, cultures have embraced versions of a  concept found among Native Americans as the creature totem. Human traits -- cunning,  courage, endurance -- are attributed to animals. A certain animal may be deemed to serve a person or a group as a symbol, example or even spiritual guide.
     If choosing a personal totem, I would go for the lion or stag. But tradition says that we don't choose our totems. They choose us. Thus the frog's attentions have caused me to wonder if I've been chosen by a tiny amphibian.
     According to people learned in such matters, I should not shrink from this notion. The frog is considered a symbol of purity, rebirth, healing and opportunity.  With due regard for purity, I shrink nonetheless.  The frog persona just isn't me. If matters totemic are indeed afoot, a happier notion is that the frog has mistaken me for someone else, and that somewhere a lion or stag is wondering how to find me.
     I am comforted in this view by the fact that we haven't seen the frog this year. Perhaps he has left to fasten upon his proper ward. But I assume that a wee frog has limited range. Even on someone else's turf, he must remain nearby. Thus, as I move among our neighbors, I watch for occasion to impart my lore. It could not be called  life-changing or hard-won. But in the business of the frog, it is what I have to offer: Don't let too many people get under the table. Just open the back door. He will see himself out.