Henry, the Sierra Nevada Yellow-legged Frog

Poor Henry is croaking outside my window tonight. I was stunned when I heard him earlier today. He's the little frog who took up residence somewhere just outside my window last spring. When we left on our 10 week trip last March I thought the hawk, Mr. Fancy Pants, would surely get him over the summer or a crow, or the gangster cats who live next door and hunt in the Bird Park, aka my backyard. I'm delighted he's still around even though I don't see how it can be a good life for him here.

My question is, how in the world did a frog manage to wind up in this dry corner of nowhere? The Bird Park is on dry desert dirt. Does he live in the covering for the air conditioner? Perhaps he's burrowed out a cozy home under its concrete slab. I just read some types of frogs hibernate. Maybe he's one. That could be nice. All I know is that I nearly stepped on him one day last spring as I stepped outside. One tiny little frog, or toad. I'm not sure which but, after listening to recorded sounds of both online just now, I'd say he's definitely a frog. In fact, after another quick search, I'm almost certain that Henry is a Sierra Nevada Yellow-legged Frog which is an endangered species. Yikes! After another search, I dug up some addresses and emailed several people interested in preserving these fellows. Now what? Now I wait. G'night, Henry. Sweet dreams.