Cuban Frogsicle, Anyone?

Hello, hungry people

What you’re looking at in the photo is an Amphibian Death Chamber. It contains the frozen remains of Zeke the Frog.

I had hoped to share a less gruesome story with you today. But Zeke gave me no option other than to grab her with a plastic bag, bury the bag in an ice-filled cooler and euthanize her in proper fashion.

I wrote about Zeke a week ago and you can read the backstory here. It covers all the reasons why the State of Florida strongly recommends killing invasive Cuban Tree Frogs before they can do more damage than they’ve already done. Like eating our native frogs and disrupting our daily lives.

After posting that story, I heard from many of you who had encountered the chaos inflicted by Cuban tree frogs.

One reader wrote to say his neighborhood had experienced more than a dozen power outages in recent months. The utility company blamed Cuban Tree Frogs that had nested in power boxes. Others told of expensive plumbing bills thanks to frogs that had clogged their piples.

Ah, ‘tis life in Florida.

***

Here’s a photo of Zeke when she first appeared in our courtyard several weeks ago.

Cute, in a warty frog kind of way.

Our grandkids grew attached to Zeke and checked in on her whenever they dropped by. She kept getting fatter and fatter, her belly filled with hundreds and hundreds of eggs that she would soon drop to become tadpoles and further add to the invasion.

After I explained to the grandkids why Zeke was a “bad frog” they agreed, albeit sadly, that she had to go.

As did most of you. Some 270 patrons of Bob’s Diner responded to the poll asking if Zeke the Frog should die. And 240 — about 89 percent — voted yes.

***

The day after that first post appeared, I stepped out back to do the grim deed and … Zeke was gone.

I felt relieved that I didn’t have to play executioner. But also a little guilty for not having taken care of business before Zeke unleashed her brood.

Then, this morning, she was back. A lot skinnier than before.

Female Cuban Tree Frogs can lay multiple batches of eggs over the summer breeding season. So I grabbed her, double-bagged her, and into the ice-filled cooler she went.

***

It seems only fitting to offer a bad limerick in Zeke’s memory:

Say goodbye now to Zeke the Frog
Who could have lived in a pond on a log
But chose our courtyard instead
And now Zeke is dead
Last croak frozen in mid-dialogue.

***

This is the part where I ask you for money. If you aren’t already a paid subscriber to Bob’s Diner, then please consider becoming one. I post two or three pieces a week here, which works out to about 30 cents apiece if you sign on for the yearly subscription.

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And, finally, if you’ve got something to say, please say it. I enjoy hearing from you. Even if it’s more frog stories.