Hop and be free

In our last episode, the tadpoles were just getting bumps where their front legs belonged. On Monday, one toad’s arms had emerged. Which brings up a question: how? I never saw any loose skin. One day there are arm bumps, and the next day there are arms, just like they’ve always been there.

Monday--Toad with arms, front right, tadpole with back legs, back left

Here’s a picture from Tuesday. Somehow the toad looks smaller when its arms emerge, although I supposed it is just a different shape. They look so fat as tadpoles and so slender as little adults.

Tuesday--comparison of tadpole and toad, although the toad's head still looks pretty big

By Wednesday, the oldest toad had little warts on its back. The photo shows it on my hand so you can see how adorable and tiny it was.

Wednesday--tiny warts! How cute is that?

When I got up Thursday morning, it was sitting on top of the rock. I spooked it when I got close, and it never risked that exposure again. The closest I got was this shot of it floating on the water’s surface. I knew the time had come to say goodbye. As with the chorus frogs, this toad was at the point of changing diets. I could no longer provide its needs with some pond scum.

Thursday morning--it looks so much more tan here than when it's on my hand

Notice how much shorter its tail was.

The tail is a fraction of what it was the day before

I had to wait until it got warm enough that I could put it in the fluddle without cold shocking it. Meanwhile, it often assumed this ballet-like posture, like it wasn’t quite sure what it should be doing with its legs. So cute!

What are these legs for, anyway?

In the afternoon, I put all three tadpoles in a container. Here they are.

Ready for the trip to freedom. A second tadpole has front legs.

When I got to the fluddle, I saw an extremely symmetric rock that I did not remember being there. As with all those toads who came to find mates, I was mystified as to where this snapper came from. It had to be a long walk. I don’t think they hang out in creeks much. I have no idea where the nearest pond is.

Yet another predator attracted to the plethora of tadpoles. But how did it know?

I released my babies at a good distance from the predatory turtle. There were still a good number of tadpoles in the fluddle. They weren’t in huge roiling masses anymore. Catching them was more of a challenge, but a small sample showed that 80% (4 of 5) had back legs, and 20% (1 of 5) had four legs. There was also a lot less water in the fluddle. When I set my tadpoles/toad free, the toad posed for me. It was well camouflaged. I hope that works for it. I told it to stay clear of snapping turtles.

Free at last

Back in the house, I cleaned everything up. I bleached the bowl and ran it through the dishwasher. As much as I was ready to have my counter back, I miss the little guys. I underestimated how much I looked forward to seeing them every time I walked into the kitchen, turning on the light in the morning, turning off the light at night, watching the changes day by day. But they are back where they belong, and I wish them well, knowing all the while that the odds of making it to reproductive maturity are slim to none.

When I went for a walk this morning, I was surprised to see new tadpoles in the fluddle. They are totally not going to make it. The water is receding rapidly. Many tadpoles have all four legs now. They will be ready to breathe air and begin their terrestrial life in a few days.

Lots of tadpoles/toads with four legs

The maidenhair fern is looking very good.

Maidenhair fern

The may apple is the only other plant that still has foliage. The trout lilies, Dutchman’s breeches, and ramps are gone. That’s why they are called spring ephemerals.

In other sad news, we said goodbye to our chicken Bess on Friday. She had a prolapsed vent, which was too disgusting to post a photo. Google it if you must. We tried the home remedies, which frankly made me weak in the knees, didn’t do a single bit of good, and may have made it worse. She couldn’t have been comfortable, and the risk of prolapsed vent is that the other chickens will essentially peck her to death. It was more humane to “cull” her, as the euphemism goes. Terry took care of it, bless his heart.

We got a good deal of the garden in last week, finally. More on that next time.