Frog Pictures, Stories & Myths

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My life is in the toilet but it didn't start like that
I started as a tiny egg in a wetland habitat

When I hatched I was a tadpole and didn't know what to do
So I swam and ate and soon found out I loved to eat my poo

I grew some legs, my arms popped out, my tail shrunk away.
My skin went green I was a FROG, and I know that's okay!

I need to have clean water and unpolluted land
My life is in the toilet, please lend a helping hand

Some people came and drained my pond and rubbished everywhere
I was here first this is my home but people just don't care

I hopped away to find a home, clean water and frog food
I found this stinky toilet where you people have all pooed

The flies come in to whiff the smell and give me a nice meal
I'd rather have my habitat which people came to steal!

I need to have clean water and unpolluted land
My life is in the toilet, please lend a helping hand

My life is in the toilet and my eggs got flushed again
You people hog clean water and just wash it down the drain

I don't know why you need to use clean water to flush poo
I'm just a frog too dumb to understand what people do

The life I had so long ago is almost all forgotten
I wake up every morning now to smell the farmer's bottom!

I need to have clean water and unpolluted land
My life is in the toilet, please lend a helping hand

©2007 Lydia Fucsko

Today whilst walking Pepi, my mother's beloved little dog around the block I took a Walkman. As I indiscriminately changed radio channels there were giggles, the word toad and the word bash.

I halted in my tracks and listened attentively. The question was "How do you get rid of toads?"

There was a colossal roar of laughter and goading from two radio jockeys, as callers rang in to share with gloating pride their devious means by which to eradicate toads from all existence.

Amongst them were:

Get Mark Philippoussis to improve his tennis game by loading up 50 toads in a rubbish bag and then force them into a machine, which pelts out tennis balls at 5 second intervals, except this time use the Cane Toads and propel them through the air. The radio announcer said with glee, that as the toads make a screaming sound the tennis player would have an auditory advantage and not only see the animal propelled through the air, but more easily hear him/her whizzing through the air - a toad's plump roundness would be perfect in replacing a tennis ball and the added satisfaction of a squelch against the racket would be even more gratifying, if not a little messy. Perhaps goggles could be worn by the player so that blood and spatter would not blind him, or at the very least mess up his swish attire! Is that one/love? Toad bashing anyone?

What I could not fathom was my lack of humor. I literally stopped in my tracks and dear little Pepi, my mother's Pomeranian, jumped up and leaned against my thigh, as if to say quizzically "Why have you stopped, I am enjoying our walk?"

Was I too sensitive? I was not in on the joke. To me there was nothing comical about this zig and zag routine, reliant on a displaced idiocy and innate cruelty so blatant to me. And it got worse. One man, excuse me, "bloke" as he took inordinate delight in being called, stated with authority, that he had injected countless toads with petrol as a pastime.

He changed his tune as he narrated, whilst I was left wondering, as any listener might, just where on earth he got his hands on syringes to begin with, to laboriously kill off each toad individually? He amended his methodology which involved forcing a Cane Toad's mouth open, in order to pump it full with petrol, so that the animal would hop, flip flop, writhe, squirm and eventually crawl away and burn to death ever too slowly from the inside.

I was perplexed - did this mean he personally pried open the mouth of every toad, held it down, even wrestled it to the ground or more likely, I think he and other male company possibly doused a small army of toads, after rounding them up and took a match to them all and watched them burn to death. Almost as an aside, the radio jockey exclaimed "This is why rural areas are discounting on petrol, diesel and fossil fuels!"

There was a retort "If you really want to save money and energy, why not do what we did as kids during a birthday party up in Queensland - pump them full of helium until they explode!" He reveled in the sound of his own supposed jocularity, but I found nothing witty in his begetting of wisdom. I found myself becoming exceedingly agitated.

My heart sank lower and it felt like my ribs imploded. I struggled for air. Why was I not following the nervous giggles and additional background laughter prompts as others had?

Where was my sense of fun? Can't I take a joke within context? I could not find the context.

The next voice was that of a woman - thank God, atheism or evolution, reason at long last. But no - her lateral contribution was only to reminisce about how she would torment her nagging neighbors, by tying a soft drink can to every toad's limb she could hunt down and hurtle him/her onto the "offender's" rooftop (well, admittedly even if they were gracious neighbors, just for the novelty of it, you understand) so as to cause such families grief at night time.

The objective as far I could ascertain was to have the toad move around dragging the can, causing such a ruckus, as to unsettle and enrage the most peaceful of home dwellers. The radio announcer's contribution was something like "Why not put a heavy bottle and really make that toad have a work out to burden his load?"

By now I am sure you are getting the picture. Now my bile began to rise - I imagined the poor animal struggling for dear life only to hemorrhage, - his limb(s) either atrophied or gangrenous - a small creature left to die a pathetic, ghoulish, slow torturous death. And why? For the sake of entertainment, under the guise of helping rid the world of a supposed frightening, hideous, loathsome pest and killing machine.

Could there be more?

Yes there was more. As many as there are "ocker blokes" you could poke a stick at, but instead they are out there poking sticks into the eyes of toads - apparently it's easier to catch a toad if you gouge his/her eyes out first and more of a challenge! One larrikin exclaimed "You can run 'em over with a huge blade with your lawn mower, it's really fun mate you oughta try it I reckon."

So colloquially put by an upright Neanderthal who shouldn't have bothered to get up.

Does it damage the blade? This was the only concern. "Is your mower all right mate?"

"Oh yeah dude! It's worth it to see their legs 'round the joint - sometimes you can't rip 'em to bits the first go, you know, but the new blades, yeah, they do a true blue job of slicing 'em to kingdom come!"

More "gems" just kept on coming. "Beauty mate! Got another one for yous all. Poppin' 'em with me tractor tires when I'm up the bush, when I'm tanked up I tend to hit even more of 'em - love that sound when you get 'em. Know I'm doin' me bit. Would do it anyway 'cause it's way cool. Hittin' roos, the big red bastards is good too, but does your bullbar in, don' it - gettin' the little ones without their mums well they're just dead easy mate".

And lastly another male in his thirties, thinking he was still back in the schoolyard impressing his mates, also managed to swear on air, much to his delight, as though it was an accomplishment, "What's black and f***s a toad?"

A Dunlop radial on a ford.

Tears welled in my eyes, mourning and sorrow ensued. If a cat had a spiral of cans tied to its tail there would be an outcry perhaps and a call from the RSPCA. Yes the toad is arguably vermin and needs eradication.

Instead of complaining and blaming the Cane Toad scientists are collaborating with CSIRO to redress the damage done by the Cane Toad to the ecosystem, but it must be done in the most humane manner possible. Any person who thinks up innovative ways in which to torment an animal makes me very worried indeed.

To desensitize individuals means that collectively society becomes immune to feeling for anything let alone anyone in general.

This is my concern - this is why a little five minute skit involving the public in a lynching, if you will, (but I won't) of Cane Toads disconcerts me no end.

Who asked the Cane Toad to dispense with the beetle that was the resident pest for the sugar cane industry? Who asked him to become an Australian resident? Can he help it that his adaptation is superior to the intellect and humor of the callers who seem to lack an enlightened soul?

Taking delight in killing any living thing is no laughing matter and I am not so much saddened for these people filling up five minutes of air time - I am rather livid at their lack of humanity and wonder if they would like to be taken to the tropics to swelter in the heat and be forced to drink petrol, whilst carrying a ball and chain until their leg fell off, having to watch their siblings being sliced slowly to bits with a huge blade.By the time humans have spent their empathy on other humans any sympathy for "lower" links in the food chain is directly proportionate to how humans benefit.

I look at Pepi our dog. Arguably, he is a part of the "family" and hence a valuable member of our tribe.

But once you encounter a Cane Toad invading your garden any identification is acutely diminished.

Nevertheless, if Cane Toads are ugly non-contributors then humans are monsters! Euthanasia must exist: it does for our pets as they become old and terminally ill and we do not want them to suffer needlessly - surely human and humane are synonymous. Apparently or apparently not - I just have no sense of anything lighthearted at the expense of someone or something else having to suffer needlessly irrespective of whether I know what it is that a toad or flower feels. It is because I do not suppose I know that extra care be granted to that which cannot speak to protect its own existence.

I do suppose that whatever it takes to get ratings and feed the general public general information, to perpetuate a stereotype about a pesky pest generally speaking is of grave importance to narrow minds. We humans use biological warfare utilizing all manner of poisons gotten from animals if it suits us. We even turn a blind eye to how revolting humans are, not only to each other, but to a smaller creature that can't even really bite back, except perhaps gum you to death! (I somehow doubt that!)

Yes, a Cane Toad can and will secrete poison to defend itself. Yes Cane Toads are multiplying at an alarming rate. Yes the Cane Toad is marching to where the food is and will eat your dog's breakfast. The Cane Toad loves to eat and breed in the most conducive environment possible. This reminds me eerily of another species. Oh what a beast! To want to protect its very survival.

Interestingly enough, a Cane Toad has never thrown my brother onto my roof with a keg tied to his leg, then forced him to down a litre of petrol and then run over his head with my cousin's lawnmower after he'd fallen off the roof.

As if humans don't spit and claw and bite and kick and kill - why sometimes just for "fun".

Either my sense of humor (or lack thereof) needs to change, or I just need to change the channel on the radio. Many other cultures revere frogs - Japan especially loves its "kaeru" (meaning frog in Japanese) and its toads and salamanders. There is much to be learnt from cultures other than our own.

Hopefully humans will re-channel their energies by seeking enlightenment - love saves the world but enlightenment may just start by loving a toad.

Written by Lydia Fucsko.

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Frogs eat anything they can fit into their mouths as long as they see it moving! This includes crickets, cockroaches, spiders, flies and crickets and in captivity they sometimes get a special treat like mice.