Today is a day for celebration.
My LAST tadpole graduated to froghood!
It's been a long time coming. And not everyone made it.
Out of the 200 mud-wrestling tadpoles I invited into my home, only around a quarter hopped off into the sunset. Floods, desiccation, live burial and serial killers all took their toll.
Poor photo of one of my fingernail-sized froglets (that's a chewed or severely clipped nail). Despite hours lying on my stomach peering at them, I'm still not sure of their species.
I have a horrible suspicion that many of my newly fledged frogs promptly ended up as dinner for the local fauna.
Firstly, torrential rain washed many an innocent tadpole over the side of their dish, and then there was the porcupine. Yes, I know porcupines don't eat tadpoles (actually, I don't know this – they seem to eat almost anything), but they are powerfully attracted to the scent of rotting fruit. And the edges of my froglet pool are liberally sprinkled with mouldering pears, to attract tiny fruit flies (for the delectation of tiny frogs). My dogs – while hysterically barking at the sniffing porcupine - overturned the tadpole dish. (Guess how long it takes to individually pick up 150 beached tadpoles; in the dark.) Then the porcupine, while diligently excavating a tunnel under the fence, shovelled all the earth into the tadpoles' bowl. I found 100 tadpoles cowering in the last tiny dribble of water.
Of course, the worst losses occurred at the beak of a vicious killer. A hadeda ibis, sprung one morning fishing in the bowl, was shockingly efficient at nabbing tadpoles. Ibises hunt by feel, groping about with their long sensitive bill, and this meant many victims later died from injuries.
A wicked serial tadpole-killer, the hadeda ibis (Bostrychia hagedash) is named for its ear-splitting cry. Admittedly these birds do sometimes holler HA-DE-DA but more often they just scream ARRRRRRRRR (usually from right behind you). The sound's so loud you can feel it thrum in your chest. Photo by Doug Harebottle and borrowed from here.
I have a horrible suspicion that many of my newly fledged frogs promptly ended up as dinner for the local fauna.
This small toad is an ominously regular visitor to my froglet pool.
