For the past couple of years I've had the honor of becoming a "Toad Daddy." That is to say, the big toad creatures lay eggs, these become toadpoles (or something like that) and toadpoles become baby toads that magically disappear. We know not where they go but we certainly know where they came from.
Apparently all that "noise" that the Woodhouse's Toad makes is but sweet nothings to the ear of the female toad.
He hangs on tight and there is not a chance he will be leaving his post until the intense drive is satisfied and they have done their best to further the species.
No eggs have yet been deposited on the rocks. Maybe he has to talk her into it. What a way he must have to be able to screech and carry on for hour after hour during the night and then to start a new day, still alert and hold in his arms his true love of the hour.
Now some may look upon this couple and just arbitrarily name them ugly and icky (not necessarily in that order), but I submit for your careful consideration the tried and true statement, "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," and he clearly be hold'n her.
Next week we will probably have the little black heads with tiny tails stick out and they will, hopefully, grow from toadlets to toads.
Being a Toad Daddy isn't my mission in life but I'm still proud to support these screamers in their annual push to further toad kind.
And let us not forget that Leo the Leopard Frog is still faithfully singing his song both day and night in hopes of following in the footsteps of the Woodies.
Stay tuned.
Whoohoo!!
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