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 still 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, the word "amphibian" should be floating around in your
brain somewhere. The word has its origin in the Greek term,
amphibios, which means "two lives."
"Amphibian" refers to the two distinct 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 house 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
sells 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
