And I will admit that upon first reading through your comment the word KANGAROO registered in big bold letters and I sort of missed ‘rat’ for a split second — and the resulting image pretty much called into question what little I know about you, Steve, and almost everything I know about toilets.

Many years ago I lived close enough to work to run home for my lunch break. On the day in question I returned to a howling cat, one who was absolutely trying to tell me something.
I followed him around (couldn’t find the other cat and initially thought that was the ‘problem’)
Finally, out of desperation, I stopped, looked right at the cat and said “you’ll have to show me what the problem is”
He promptly led me off the the bathroom. No, the litter box was nice and clean. No, there was nothing hiding behind the shower curtain.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a hint of movement in the toilet bowl.
I don’t know about you, but in my house, things are not supposed to move around in the toilet bowl.
I approached very cautiously and discovered a Kangaroo rat doing the breaststroke.
The poor little guy was just about finished, but I rescued him in time. He did the same thing as your woodchuck friend – just sat there recovering for a at least fifteen minutes.

I’ve fished numerous dead Disney animals out of the pool in the past, including the adorable baby bunnies you mention. Currently I have a board floating in it as sort of a life preserver, I don’t know if that has any effect but I did see a chipmunk sitting quite calmly on it a few weeks ago and grooming himself.

I had a pet rat for a while too, Hagelrat — they really do make great pets. Not much in the longevity department though.

Our little garden pond (what gardening places refer to as a “water feature”) is a death-trap for adorable creatures. While it has not yet claimed the backyard’s resident groundhog, I have had the mildly grim responsibility (does the wife EVER have to do this?) of fishing out a juvenile robin, a mole, and – most achingly – the adorable baby rabbit which didn’t seem to mind our gardening in close proximity to it.

“Or that chance rules all? Or, is it perhaps what I secretly suspected all along, that true stories have no moral?” I’m voting yes on both these counts. After all, I’ll go toe-to-toe with you in a sloth and indolence pissing contest!