The Frog Story

When I was just a wee lass, I was standing at the sliding glass doors looking out.  Wearing darling little pajamas, I slid the door open (probably to let the dog in) and a tiny green tree frog jumped and stuck to my shirt.  Letting out a mostly silent squeal of horror, I remained mostly frozen until the frog jumped back to the glass.  Since that day I have had a fear of sorts when it comes to frogs.  I still think they are fascinating animals and I love to look at them through glass, however, put me in the same arena as those amphibians and things get ugly.

Post college graduation I worked as an animal keeper at the local zoo.  One of my closest coworker friends was a keeper in the Herps Dept.  I asked her and another keeper to help me finally tackle my fear.  I held all sorts of reptiles and amphibians.  And really, it was no big deal.  Maybe I wanted needed to save face.  I mean, seriously, those Herps guys were brutal when it came time to prank other departments (filling our boots with water and hiding them in our freezer at end of shift so they had allll night to solidify - yes, it really happened, thank you Dustin and Dan).  Regardless, I held frogs and toads with nary a twitch of the eye.


Fast forward to September 16, 2014.  As is the normal routine, I let my dog out on the patio and stepped out to open the screen door for her.  She bee-lined for the pool fence and I heard the distinct 'sploosh' as something jumped into the pool and swam away.  "Damn frogs", I thought as I waited for the dog.  She hurried back to the screen door and headed for the house.  The following is exactly what occurred next as told via chat to my girlfriends:


"Fuuuukkiiiing heeeeellll.  I hate fucking frogs. Hate them. Fuck.  I hate frogs. I just let Stella in and a GD frog jumped from who the fuck knows where kamikaze style toward the open sliding glass door and I was like 'noooooo!!'  And then it jumped on my leg and I was kicking my leg and twisting around and muttering some shit until that fucker unstuck itself from my leg at which point I thought I might need to call 911 for the GD heart attack I was having.  Then we had a face off because that bitch was sitting next to the flip flop that flew off my foot which was also in the direct path to the door.  In order to go inside, away from that sticky, slimy little bitch, I had to move closer to it.  Real funny Mother Nature.  I left the fucking shoe outside.  It was the husband's anyway.  He can get it tomorrow.  I'm not going back out there." 


Now, every. single. time I step out on that patio after dark, I jump through the doorway like an awkward ninja, turn around look at the walls of the house, scan the ground, check the pool fence, and proceed to get goose bumps at the mere thought of another encounter.


I'm scarred for life.


P.S. No animals were hurt during this encounter.  Well maybe me...I'm pretty sure I pulled a muscle freaking the hell out.  In this case though, the attack frog was a Cuban Tree Frog and considered invasive so if anyone ever wants to invent a trap, I will gladly test them on my patio. 


From the good environmental steward part of me:  If you catch an invasive species, it is illegal to release it back to the environment. University of Florida extension office has articles explaining humane methods of dealing with such species.