by Richard Farinato
Ah, summertime! Everything is lush and green, and all I want
to do is be outside in my yard. I'm reluctant to come indoors
until it is really dark, and even then there are things to see
and hear all around. Down the slope below my property, a chorus
of frogs sings in the vegetation around a small pond. If I
approach my own little goldfish pond, man-made though it is, I
am surprised by the sudden explosion as a young bullfrog leaps
from the rock work and plunges into the water. On my way back
across the grass to the back deck, I'll hopefully spot a toad
working for his supper or sitting patiently at the edge of the
border near the steps. Moths and worms beware....
Virtually any backyard across the United States can provide
habitat for one or more of the 80 or so species of frogs and
toads found north of Mexico. If you remember your high school
biology class, the word "amphibian" should be floating around
in your brain right now. Literally, it means two lives, and
refers to the two life-forms that we see in most of the 4,000
species of frogs, toads, salamanders, and caecilians (legless,
tailless, tropical amphibians) worldwide. Amphibians commonly
lay gelatinous eggs, usually in water or a very moist location,
which hatch into the familiar tadpole in the case of frogs and
toads. Aquatic tadpoles eventually turn into terrestrial frogs
or toads. Depending on the species, they may continue to live
in or near the water, or may set up housekeeping in the trees,
on the forest floor, or in a burrow far from standing water.
Regardless of species, moisture is important to frogs and
toads. They breathe through their moist skins as well as with
their lungs, and their jelly-like eggs must be moist or wet to
survive. Most frogs have smooth, thin, moist skin. The majority
of toads are bumpy, rough-skinned, and drier to the touch than
are frogs.
Appealing Pest Controllers
All of these marvelous hoppers are strict carnivores, with
an insatiable appetite for insects, slugs, worms, caterpillars,
minnows, and, depending on the species, other amphibians. This
accounts for the warm feelings I and other gardeners have for
these creatures. They perform a valuable service by decreasing
the numbers of plant-munching pests that never seem to have an
off year in the garden. In the last few years, as we have all
become more conscious of the intricacies of backyard animal and
plant communities, we've seen a more welcoming attitude in
general toward toads. Nearly every gardening catalog and retail
nursery sell a toad house of some sort that looks suspiciously
like a clay pot.
Me, I don't fall for it. I learned long ago that most
animals know what they're doing, and we can help them and learn
from them by simply sharing space and being observant. I
remember a toad in Virginia who lived in a slight depression in
the sand under the edge of a house trailer's foundation. He'd
keep an eye on the world from that spot, and if necessary, just
back up under the structure. This toad, though, and the toads
in my backyard, all make good use of something provided by
their human friends: lights for illumination at night. The
lights are an invitation for insects to gather 'round, and
toads will sit patiently in the spotlight waiting for dinner to
land close enough to snatch.
The combination of vocal talent, appealing personality, and
insect-eating prowess puts frogs and toads high on the list of
good neighbors in our landscape. And you don't have to turn a
portion of your property into a replica of the Dismal Swamp to
provide a place for them. If you have grass, plant cover,
insects, and a moist area somewhere nearby, be patient and
observant; chances are they are already there.
Richard Farinato is Director of
the HSUS Captive Wildlife Protection Program
