Release Day

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about catching a little tadpole. We named him Tad and settled in to watch the extraordinary transformation. We don't know exactly how old he was when we caught him, but since the pond didn't exist until several days before, he couldn't have hatched more than a couple days before. His head was about the size of a pencil eraser and his tail slightly longer than his body. He would swim around his little enclosure, especially hiding under the rocks and plants we placed for him.

We researched online about what to feed tadpoles, but in the end decided that it would be best to go across the street and get fresh pond water and plants daily. That seemed to provide enough for his daily needs. On the fourth day, we noticed tiny leg buds at the spot near his tail. At this point, his tail started to become translucent, losing its blood supply. A day later, his legs were easily identifiable. Then we noticed front legs. His tail was still long but most of it was nearly transparent. As his front and back legs grew, his tail began to disappear.

By the beginning of the second week, Tad look more like frog than tadpole. He has clear front legs and back legs and a short tail. We learned that he would officially turn into a froglet when he lost his gills and could breathe on land. At this point, he would prefer to be out of water. This happened between day 11 and 12. One day he was in and out of the water, clinging to the leave or crawling out on the rock, but still preferring to swim. The following day, he was on land more than he was in the water.

On day 12 Tad was undeniably a froglet still with a bit of a tail. On day 13 he was completely a frog, a tiny perfect frog. He had a frog face and the beginnings of the banded bullfrog coloring. His sticky feet allowed him to climb the sides of his enclosure. He could no longer survive on microscopic plant matter in pond water. He was now a carnivore. The time had come to let him go.

On Thanksgiving morning, 13 days after we had caught him, we walked across to the pond and released little Tad back into the pond. It had been amazing to watch him change. The tiny frog was no bigger than his head had originally been. The process had not added to his bulk, but rather taken away unnecessary bits and replaced others. I can hardly believe it all happened in such a short time. While we will never know exactly what will happen to Tad, we imagine he will live a happy life. He will hop around the pond, bury himself in the mud, catch ants to eat. Next rainy season, when we hear the banded bullfrogs' "oom-bpee," Tad will be joining the chorus.