A Cloud, A Knot, or an Army - Raising Tadpoles

As if I don’t have enough animals around here to deal with, I have found myself caretaker for another species.  This was not intentional.  So many of these things are not intentional.

When Sophie’s puppies started climbing out of their wading pool, I set up a pen for them in the front yard, complete with a box fan and a dog house filled with cedar shavings.  I cleaned out their wading pool and had the brilliant idea to place it in the side yard and fill it with water for the big dogs to play in.  I knew Sophie would avoid it like the plague, but I thought Scout and Bear would enjoy a place to cool off.  The result I should have foreseen was that both boys kept their legs muddy from standing in the pool then wallowing in the dirt.  But that was not the biggest problem.

I noticed this week that the pool water looked sort of dirty and thought perhaps I should empty it and put fresh water in.  On closer look, I realized that some of what I thought was dirt was actually tadpoles.  Hundreds of tadpoles.  While I was sitting on my porch listening to the frogs, the frogs were doing whatever frogs do and prospective frogs were being produced in the wading pool.  So all these little creatures are swimming around, waiting to become ready to breathe air.

I had a fleeting thought that I could just empty the pool anyway, but then I would be guilty of murdering hundreds of little frogs.  Okay, I thought.  I will just wait until they grow up.  They will leave and then I can empty the pool and put it away.

My friend Alice, who is used to my way of thinking, was my first sounding board.  “I have all these tadpoles,” I said.  “What happens when they become frogs?  Do they just jump out of the water or do they have to climb out?  Will they be able to get out of the pool when they are just little tiny frogs?”

Always ready to be helpful, Alice said that I might need to feed them.  What do you feed tadpoles?  Do they eat bugs or what?  They seem to be doing okay without an outside food source.  I am more concerned on how they will get out of the pool when it’s time.  I don’t want to come out one morning and find a bunch of drowned frogs.  The sides of the pool are pretty slick and it’s a long way for a tiny frog to jump.  “Maybe you should put a big rock in there,” Alice said.  But how many will I squash putting the rock in there?  This is getting complicated.  How do I get myself in these situations?

I went to my trusty source, Google, and typed in “raising tadpoles.”  Did I ever get an education in tadpoles!  Who knew it was so complicated for a tadpole to survive to frog-hood?  First of all, I discovered that they are vegetarians until they grow legs and start to breathe air.  Then they become carnivores.  There was a list of foods they can eat – lettuce, cabbage, broccoli and so on.  (They also like to eat mosquito larvae, which is a good reason to let them live!)  But as I read further, I learned that tadpole caretakers need to cook the cabbage or lettuce slightly before serving it to the tadpoles.  I don’t even cook much for myself, much less for the wildlife!  And who cooks for them in the wild, when they grow up in a pond or a stream?  Not going to happen here.  I also discovered that a group of tadpoles is called a "school" if they exhibit schooling behavior.  Apparently some will gather in a group and swim, but some just swim around randomly. In that case they can be called a knot or a cloud or an army.  If they are frog tadpoles, they are an army; if they are toad tadpoles, they are a knot.  I don't even want to ask how you tell the difference in toad and frog tadpoles.  Once they get out of my pool, they can be anything they want to be.

I did discover that I need to provide a large flat rock or some such thing for them to climb on when they develop legs.  My friends at our regular Sunday lunch, when I explained my dilemma, suggested I build a ramp, or little steps that would reach the top of the sides, but I think they were joking.  I did say to my friend Danny that I thought his experience with boy scouts over the years should have made him an expert on the care of tadpoles.  “Oh I know about them,” he said.  “I used to catch them and put them in a jar until they grew legs.” 

“Great,” I said.  “So what did you feed them?”  I knew better than to ask if he cooked for them.

“I didn’t feed them anything,” he said.  “I just watched them swim around until they got legs then I put them back in the pond.”

So, I went home and looked at my knot, or cloud, or school, or army of tadpoles. They were munching on some grass clippings and small leaves that had blown into the pool and seemed perfectly content.  So that problem is solved.  Now I just need to find a large rock.  Or maybe a log.  At least now I don’t have to cook for them.  Next summer, I will keep the wading pool in storage and let the dogs go to the pond to cool off.