There’s a frog in South America, the tadpole of which is bigger than the finished frog. Yes, you read that right. Because of this Benjamin Buttonesque approach to adolescence, it goes by the name of the paradoxical frog. The tadpole of the paradoxical frog grows to 11 inches in length – one big tadpole. Then, during metamorphosis, it shrinks to leave a dinky little frog that measures barely 3cm from bum to beak.
Not that it has a beak.
Another interesting fact about the paradoxical frog – don’t take this as gospel: if you suffer from type 2 diabetes, licking one could help. Apparently it secretes a compound which protects it from infection, and scientists have found that when they synthesise this compound in the lab it stimulates the secretion of insulin in pancreatic cells. Pretty cool huh!
Before you rush to replace the lollipops with a frog on a stick, though, ask yourself this: how did they stumble upon a discovery like that? You’ve got to be either perversely curious or very lucky. The paradoxical frog spends most of its time underwater and rarely moves during the day, so just discovering the existence of this critter must have been a massive stroke of luck, let alone finding that it could be the cure to a major global epidemic.
“OK chaps, we’re looking for a frog, about 3cm long, underwater, at night, in the Amazon rainforest.”
“And what do we do if we find one, sir?”
“I dunno. Try licking it.”
So why do animals become nocturnal? It’s one of the great evolutionary questions, like why did homo sapiens migrating out of Africa go all the way to the Artic Circle and settle there? Why not stop on the Amalfi Coast or the French Riviera or any of those fertile, pretty, warm places that they must have passed through on their evolutionary journey?
Anyway, animals tend to become nocturnal for their own protection. Rodents, for example, tend to get preyed upon by birds, so it makes sense for them to go about their business after dark when most of the birds are in bed. But then other animals have taken advantage of the dark to catch out animals that thought it was safe to venture out after dark. Owls, for example, have a field day preying on rodents that thought all the birds were in bed.
It’s like all things: the well-meaning pioneers develop situations for the benefit of the many and then the cynics move in and clean up. Sorry, Owl and Tigger fans, but nocturnal predators are the internet hackers, the rogue traders, the diving footballers of the animal world.
There’s a predatory nocturnal worm, the onychophora or velvet worm, that’s so vile, so horrific in the way it catches and eats its prey that if I described it to you you’d never go out at night again. “But how can a worm catch anything to eat?” you may well ask. Well, get this: velvet worms eject an adhesive slime in which their prey gets stuck and then the slithery eating machine moves in. So this worm has observed the actions of Extinction Rebellion and, rather than taking on board the message about saving the planet, it’s chosen instead to exploit their protest methods for its own nefarious ends. If that’s not cynical, what is?
Speaking of licking frogs, in the United States there’s currently an epidemic of toad abuse. The cane toad famously secretes a chemical that triggers psychedelic hallucinations. And now they’re smoking the dried out secretions of the Colorado River toad. You can understand why. As well as the mind-bending trips, users report an alleviation of depression and anxiety. “What’s that you say? Trump got in again? Oh mercy, pass me that toad!”
But don’t be tempted, kids. The licking of frogs and toads is dangerous? These are toxins that can cause muscle weakness, rapid heart rate, vomiting and a lingering sense of disbelief that you’ve just licked a toad. So if someone offers you a cane toad outside the school gates, just say no.
