Kiss That Frog

The creatures down here are something to behold. Massachusetts is home to a slew of extraordinarily boring, mundane inhabitants. Sure sure, we had our Black Widow spiders and yes, there was rumored to be brown recluses in recluse here and there, but by and large, there wasn’t anything particularly exciting. And honestly, even if there was, our area was far too urban to house anything other than a raccoon after the garbage (One night I found one sitting in our driveway scooping old cream cheese out of the container with an ancient celery stalk and licking it like an ice cream cone).

Anyway, Florida is a helluva lot more fun. We are rumored to have alligators, though I’ve yet to see one, and there was talk of panther droppings (!!) in my neighborhood. But what I’ve found most intriguing is the astonishing amount of amphibians and reptiles. Lizards, lizareds everywhere, darting in and out of tiny crevices. Rushing across paved areas and clinging to our lanai (LANAI, LIKE WE LIVE IN HAWAII) screen.

But really, it’s the frogs that fascinate me. They gather in pools, cling to our screen and teeny ones have have invaded our garage.

Invaded. Our. Garage. The ants are gone, and the frogs are moving in. At first it was cute – teeny tiny little visitors hopping around the garage happily, leaping around without a care in the world. Frogs! Cute! At least it’s not roaches, right? And then we started running them over with the car and frog carcasses were littered everywhere. Flat little splayed bodies belly up, smashed to no thicker than a piece of parchment. They were everywhere.

It was time to take some action to save the colony. I convinced myself that I was not responsible for the large-scale frogicide, as I’m rarely the individual driving the car that’s kept in the garage. Close examination of both sides of the garage where the door goes down revealed a virtual frog infestation – HUNDREDS of little frogs gathered for merriment in the corners of our garage. I don’t mind them, but the death and destruction of the frog colony was really breaking my heart. They must move on, for their own safety!

I murdered my first frog last night. Frogslaughter really, since it was unintentional. Adam and I thought we would sweep them out of their hidey holes, politely encouraging them to move along – to Lou’s garage maybe – and find a new place to live. Adam was sweeping with extraordinary enthusiasm, and when he would sweep, they would leap, resulting in flying frog bodies hurtling through the air with extraordinary velocity.

I wasn’t comfortable that this was best for their safety. So, grabbing the dustpan and brush, I began sweeping them gently into the dustpan and walking them outside. Until Larry. Larry wasn’t into getting into the dustpan, and preferred instead to hop irritatingly towards the Broom of Death. I was only thinking of his survival, I promise! I got a little aggressive with the dustpan and the next thing I knew I had STABBED LARRY WITH THE CORNER OF THE DUSTPAN! Confident that he had survived, and convincing myself that the injury was not life-threatening, I swept him up carefully and took him outside.

Larry went belly up. I didn’t mean to kill him! I never intended to STAB HIM TO DEATH! I can now add ‘frog murderer’ to my resume.

RIP, Larry. May you find comfort in the arms of your fallen comrades.

13 comments September 26th, 2005