He’s back
Written by biscuit on May 16, 2008 – 6:56 pm -
I first discovered him last spring, lurking on the perimeter of the grape vines. At first, I thought he was yet another red rock ’til he jumped half a foot in the air when I tried to weed him.
I spent hours and hours trying to determine exactly what kind of frog or toad he was. I sent pictures and queries to amphibian societies, the local Nature Conservancy, friends who know about such things. I even drug our college’s conservationist into my office and tried to weasel an answer out of him.
He said he didn’t know. He told me he’d ask around, that he thought it might be a nocturnal frog, but he couldn’t swear to it. But he’d let me know.
I haven’t seen him — the conservationist, that is — since.
Then, a few minutes ago while mowing, I noticed something fly right past me through the fence and into the front yard, and saw the hound girl spring into full coon hound action, ready to tree that - that - that whatever it is!
She is a puppy, after all. Frogs and toads and lizards are all new to her.
I looked at what she was fixing to spring on, and there he was: my beloved red frog - toad - whatever the hell he is!
I screamed NOOOOOO!, the hound grrrl stopped in her tracks, I raced through the gate and nabbed the red froggie. He wasn’t too happy about it, but we do what we have to do. I cradled him in my hands, got out of the gate and found him a nice hidey hole beneath some blooming sage (he’ll enjoy all the visits from the bumblebees and hummingbirds) and soon to bloom echinacea. He leapt out of my hands and disappeared into the jungle.
Okay, so he didn’t disappear. I just checked on him and he’s still there, trying to look like a red rock, hiding beneath the sage.
And for anyone who wonders why I’m insane enough to even contemplate owning two places, this is why. I consider my little home in the mountains a safe harbor for critters of all sorts, identifiable and not.
My greatest pleasure comes when I see something I’ve cultivated come to fruition. This goes for students and hummingbirds and lizards that look (and act) like the world’s tiniest T. Rexes — and now I can add the return of the mysterious red frog (or is it toad?) to this list of pleasurable accomplishments.
In the long run, it’s worth it.
Posted in Environment, Gardening |
No doubt that this is a toad. Notice the large gland behind the eye, and the skin that is not smooth.
Toads carry those characteristics, and frogs have smooth skin and no large glands behind the eyes. I suggest that you send this picture to the biology department at your nearest college for positive identification.
As a matter of interest, neither dogs nor cats will hardly ever eat a toad, although they might torment them. Frogs, on the other hand, are pretty much food for any carnivore. Toads secrete a toxin from that large gland that most predators finds extremely distasteful. In some species, the toxin is called bufotinine, which is structurally related to DMT, DET, alpha methyl tryptamine, and psilocybin. They are potent hallucinations, and should be avoided. Warmest regards, Doc.
I just knew it was a toad. O’m sodeep in frogs here, though, that the sight of a toad is somewhat unusual.
I work at a college and the person I asked there is the forestry/conservation/etc. professor. He didn’t know, which surprised me because he’s from this area. I’ve asked others, but alas, so far: nothing.
More important for me, though, is that my lovely *toad* is back.
The black on his back, btw, is dirt.
Had to be a toad, ’cause, you know, frogs are charming, in many more ways than we know…
And yes, you gotta do what you gotta do, at the end of the day.
Some cultures believe that a resident toad is a sign of good luck. I happen to agree, because they eat a tremendous amount of noxious insects, including flies and mosquitoes. If you have the time, sit and watch. At night, put a piece of red plastic over your flashlight so as not to distract either the insects nor the toad. Warmest regards, Doc.
I love them.
I once saved a toad (this one, I knew he was a toad) from the mouth of a snake. A river runner or a ribbon snake or ??
It had been raining here for days. Monsoons practically. I walked out back one afternoon and saw the snake with the poor toad in his mouth.
Because I love my critters, I found a stick and — fearlessly! — walked right up and whopped the snake. The snake immediately dropped the toady and slithered off.
Meanwhile, the toad just sat there. Likely the snake had injected him with some poison to paralyse him - but I like to think it was a total ET experience for him and he was stunned, simply stunned and amazed by the events which had led to him being snatched from the jaws of certain death.
In about an hour, he hopped off.
Typical male!
Unless the serpent was a Crotolid, unlikely much venom was injected. If I had just about gotten eaten, I likely would be frozen for a while, too. Warmest regards, Doc.
Aha. So it *was* a Close Encounters experience for the toady. Awesome!
AWWWWW … Snakes need to eat too …
Says she who grew with her mom’s collection of six different varieties of lizards (iguanas, basalisks, tokay gekos, anoles, and a northern alligator lizard), plus a few different tortoises.
Hugs,
Heather
PS: Thanks for all the advice on growing herbs.
Sorry it’s taken so long to get back, ‘puter troubles.
Hi Heather, we thought you moved to the south pole!
I’m still not crazy about snakes (although I’ve developed somewhat of a relationship of mutual respect with black snakes).
But I’m wild, absolutely wild, about my skinks and frogs (especially my tree frogs) and my lizards. I love walking outside and being confront by a terribly ferocious 2″-3″ lizard determined not to give me any ground. Such huffing and puffing!
I’ve seen them run in the house before once their bluff wears off.
I thought you’d disappeared from the face of the earth, too.
Glad the herb inf helped!
Now if we can just find MonkeyFister. I’m dying to tell him I’ve put an offer on a freakin’ bunker!
monkeyfister is canoeing up the Wolf River this weekend on a river cleanup trip. He’ll be back.
Oh, good. I wondered where he was.
Tell him I’ve found a bunker and, when TEOTWAWKI hits, I’m inviting all of you to join me there.
Think: gigantic tornado shelter! Can fit a small city in it!
I have no problems with snakes. I do not have bad ones here, none that are poisonous ones, but have several constrictors here that eat rodents. What is not to like about that? Warmest regards, Doc.
We have rattlers, water mocassins (or is that moccasins? gah. Need coffee!) and copperheads.
But most of our snakes are benevolent. I have black snakes and some other kind living under my place — they’re out in the yard and pastures, too, but I find them under here all the time.
I once rounded the corner here to find one of them doing something in the yard. It turned out just like the Loony Toons — the snake popped his head up, I swear I could see exclamation points and panic symbols swirling around his little head and he fled beneath the place.
I worry sometimes, though, that watching cartoons as a child perverted my mind. Living here is exactly like living in the Loony Toons much of the time.
The worst was last fall when my backyard was invaded by seemingly hundreds of hummingbirds. I always have tons of them anyway - it’s positively dangerous to walk in my front yard right now, in fact, because of all the hummingbirds zooming around - but that was absurd. It sounded like hundreds of squabbling mice, just like the cartoons! I found myself wondering if perhaps, unbeknownst to me, I’d died and landed in a perverse Toon Town purgatory populated by cartoon mice.
I hate snakes ever since I got bitten by a viper as a kid in the south of France. Once, as I was jogging through Centennial Park in Sydney, I came across a huge black snake lying about the path, I had to jump over it, and I’m sure, I beat all the world’s records in speed as I fled like crazy! This is the main reason I live in Ireland, and as you know, my Christian name is Patrick, everyone calls me the second Saint!
How strange. Here, black snakes are benevolent beasts.
They can get absolutely huge - 6′, 10′ aren’t unheard of - but they feast on vermin! Rodents best beware when you got a black snake livng in your woodpile!
So we love them, and they’re non-poisonous.
You all have different snakes over there, though.
Mostly here are striped little ones, usually called garter snakes. At one of my places in Arkansas we shared a yard with a five foot spotted king snake. It would let me pick it up and handle it without becoming upset. Warmest regards, Doc.
I could never do that, I’d have a heart attack!
Nah, you’d grow to love them. Old king snakes are like the grandpas of the world. They’re very pleasant creatures.
Besides, they can clear a place of rats and mice in no time at all.
Mrs. Translator is known to her students as Snake Lady. She used to have a python, but it got too large (over 10 feet, and 30+ pounds) for her to handle comfortably, so she donated him to a nearby university collection.
That bugger got loose out once, while Mrs. Translator was visiting relatives out of town. I finally found him in the pantry. He was only about six feet then. Warmest regards, Doc.
You must be logged in to post a comment.
Meta
Categories
Blogroll
Our Ex-Blogs