The frog debacle

For those of you worried about how the Finners is doing here, this will not be reassuring. That's all the disclaimer you're getting.

Apparently frogs can create a certain chemical so that, if a predator picks them up in its jaws, there will be an incredibly bitter taste that will encourage the predator to drop the frog forthwith. The bitter taste can also spark certain reactions, such as foaming at the mouth, seizures, vomiting, etc.

I think you know where I'm going with this.

Our apartment complex has a pretty large courtyard, which isn't so much open green space as a cool little nature-trail sort of thing, with one or two paths and a handful of man-made ponds [which I'm sure will be an excellent breeding location for mosquitoes when it gets warmer] and some decks with tables and chairs. It's nice because it feels like we're taking Fin for a walk when we take him to the bathroom, even though we're not leaving the complex. With all the water, however, there are more lifeforms than the two-legged and canine variety walking around--or, in the case of frogs, hopping.

I've never actually seen a frog outside, but then Sam's always the one who takes Fin out when it's dark, so that's probably why. Fin, for all the intelligence he inherited from his poodle mother, is pretty oblivious a lot of the time, so even though Sam's seen a lot of frogs, two Sundays ago was the first time Fin discovered one.

I was upstairs in the bathroom, brushing my teeth, when I heard Sam rush into the apartment and then start begging Fin to drink some water. I finished what I was doing and went to the downstairs bathroom, where Sam had the detachable shower hose down and trickling invitingly to Fin [for some reason, Fin loves drinking from faucets, even though he really shouldn't here, since the water isn't particularly safe]. And there was my husband, almost in tears, and my puppy, foaming at the mouth.

This photo is from August; he's much, much fluffier now.

This was, naturally, a bit alarming. I asked what was going on, and Sam said Fin had seen a frog and he hadn't seen anything wrong with letting him go investigate. Then Fin licked the frog--a nice, warm little hello--and apparently then foam began pouring from his mouth. Like so:

What was really alarming was that Sam was trying to pry Fin's jaws apart to force his mouth open, so we could wash it out, and he couldn't. I think we were both thinking lockjaw for a minute and that our remaining time with our puppy would be short, but then Sam held Fin still and I worked on his jaws, and we got them open. Then, thoroughly soaking the dog, himself, and the bathroom, Sam spent the next length of time washing out Fin's mouth. And while Sam was rinsing Fin's mouth, I hopped on the computer and tried to find out if our dog was dying.

Turns out, no, it's pretty normal, insofar as frogs are concerned. And luckily Fin only foamed at the mouth and vomited up all his dinner. I really don't know what I would have done if he'd started seizuring. I didn't know what I was going to do if he was dying, anyway, since I don't think we'd be able to find a taxi willing to accommodate our foaming-at-the-mouth dog, or if we did that we'd understand a word the vet said.

So rather than go to bed, as had been the plan, I continued to reassure myself that our dog was most likely going to survive and Sam, since he and Fin were both wet through anyway, gave Fin a bath. We started to feel better about the whole thing once Fin got out of the bath and tried doing his rabbit run [tried because all the flooring downstairs is tile, making it almost impossible for him to gain purchase when he's not wet and makes for a pretty funny show when he is] and then instigated several sessions of steal-the-slipper-so-you-chase-me and I-have-my-rope-and-I-know-you-really-want-it. We figured if he was that eager to play, he was going to be ok. Then again, he could be on the edge of death and still be dying to play, so who knows.

Hopefully that's the end of his adventures with frogs. But, as my mom reminded me, it took my dog growing up getting sprayed twice by a skunk before she learned to avoid them, so we might not be so lucky to get away with one experience. At least next time we won't have to panic so much.