Killer toads…but it’s not just the bugs that end up with a sticky end.

Toadtastic. We're overrun with sapos.

Every night the back porch is alive with toads.  The lights attract the bugs, which bring the toads to feast.  They’re big buggers and make the back doors rattle when they bounce off the glass.

The Toad meets Big Foot.

So don’t be fooled when you see that toad by Cameron’s foot.  He might just be a kid, but this thirteen year old has Euro 45.5, USA 12, UK 11 feet.  For a short time it was annoying when he would borrow my flip flops and leave them in all sorts of places, but that phase soon passed when his feet just kept on growing.  In comparison, that’s one big toad.

Everyone reacts differently.  Jen won’t go outside at night without a flashlight for fear of meeting the amphibians.  Abby wields a broom.  The other night Wilson chose to have a picnic on the kitchen floor, after four toads circled him while he was eating his dinner on the back porch.

These toads may be the death of the dog.  They’re certainly giving it a good go.  Our vet tells us that many dogs die from messing with the toads.  The first we knew something was up was when Gus was salivating and spinning in circles.  He went temporarily blind too.  Then his muscles spasmed and he started having episodes that looked like seizures.  Not knowing it was down to a toad we took him in the car to the local vet.  Jen describes her as ‘Vets sans frontieres’ or ‘Vets without Borders’.  She does amazing things to save the neighborhood animals on a shoestring budget.  Anything from dogs hit by cars to injured monkeys.  When we showed up she took Gus straight to her operating table (a collapsible picnic type table) and set to work.  The poor guy had a heart rate of over 220 and was having multiple seizures.  She prepared me for the fact that he might not make it through the night.  The venom was attacking his central nervous system.  Without exactly having the drugs she wanted, but without the time to find them, she anesthetized him so he wasn’t under stress and left him to fight.  Gus fought and is still with us.  She told me of a friend of hers who has (or maybe had, I’m not sure of the outcome) a dog that was apparently addicted to the ‘high’ of eating or licking toads.  So much so that the owner had to keep sedatives in the fridge to administer to her pooch.  I’ve since learned it’s not just dogs that get a buzz from licking toads.  People have been known to lick toads for a high, or squeeze the venom from the toad, leaving it to dry before smoking it for an intense hallucinogenic experience.

The toads haven’t given up.  Mind you neither has Gus.  Within 24 hours of near death he was pouncing on toads again.  The dog might die from stupidity.  A few nights ago we found one sitting in his water bowl.  That is supposedly one of their secret killer methods, poisoning the dog’s water.  Last weekend I had to flood his mouth and eyes with water because he’d got sprayed again.  Tonight we found one sitting on his dog bed while the cover was in the washer.

Getting nice and comfy.

Yes they eat a lot of bugs, but I won’t be happy if they kill the dog.  We do have one secret weapon in the back garden though.  The toads are not at the top of the food chain.

This Boa Constrictor was crusing near the porch, and had a toad sized bulge in its belly.

Lots of space for toads in there.

My easy come easy go attitude towards the toads reminds me of a younger Abby, when she watched a particularly traumatic nature documentary one day.  The cute baby animal was eaten by the predator.  “It’s just the circle of life,” she said.  For some of our toad friends, it’s the ‘Circle of Life’ too.

Yet another bloody big snake.

“Hello,” I said as I looked at the snake on the branch outside the kitchen window.  I act way cooler now than I did with my first snake sightings.  Grabbed camera, grabbed Costa Rica Field Guide on Reptiles which I have lying handy, and woke Abayneh up from a nap to show him.

Oriole Snake, non-venomous.

Estimated length of 5' or 150cm.

Having now studied the field guide more closely, I have a snake wish list which includes a Freminville’s Scorpion-eater.  I would pay good money for one of those.

This cut my teeth brushing short.

 

Him looking at me, looking at him.

Bed time has been put on hold.  Not only do I have to blog about my latest wildlife sighting, but I’m a bit worked up to go to sleep.  I was brushing my teeth when I noticed out of the corner of my eye, something moving.  “Oh shit” I garbled, with a mouthful of toothpaste.  It wasn’t the biggest snake in the world, but it wasn’t what I was expecting to see in my bathroom.  I’ve been teasing Jen because she won’t go for a wee during the night without a flashlight in case she treads on something living.  Guess I’ll have to stop giving her a hard time now. Still foaming at the mouth I tried to work out how long it was, noticing that when it was stretched out at a full slither it seemed to cover about two of the tiles.  That put it at somewhere around 3′ long.  Then I ran to get my camera.  When I got back to the bathroom I finally gave up trying to brush my teeth and spat the toothpaste out.  I was actually intending to finish brushing my teeth but it started to move towards me.  Good enough on the teeth for now.  I’ll floss and use extra mouthwash tomorrow.

It’s only the third snake I’ve seen since I arrived here two months ago, but it’s been quite a busy week for snake sightings.  Our friend Sid has seen at least two in the last few days, with the most recent one being dropped on her from a great height by a bird.  On her birthday to boot!  The other one was a Boa she saw on the beach.  I got something dropped on me today by a bird too.  A rather large bird judging by what hit my foot.  I know being crapped on is meant to bring you luck.  If that’s the case then I’m the luckiest man alive today.  So lucky in fact that I got to see a snake up close.

Oh crap!

Having taken lots of photos I then wondered what to do?  My first thought was to leave it alone.  Maybe it would go out the way it came in?  Then it made a bolt for the open bathroom door.  It could move pretty quickly on smooth, polished tiles.  So I decided that with me sleeping on the other side of the bathroom door I couldn’t just leave it to the snake to remove itself, I was going to have to do something about it.  It had already sprung at me a couple of times while I annoyed it taking pictures, so although snake handlers always seem to pick them up by the tail, I wasn’t about to do that.  Without having a snake hook to hand, although I did for a second think about trying to fashion one out of a coat hanger or something, I went for my fishing rod.  Armed with fishing rod and Jen’s favourite cold bag I went to remove the snake.  I tried to pick it up with the end of the fishing rod, with the idea that I would then drop it into the bag.  But it fell right off.  So I laid the bag down on its side, near the snake, holding it open with one hand.  I poked the snake with the fishing rod to get him to go in the bag.  I also gave him verbal encouragement.  First shot he slithered into the bag.  I zipped it shut and I took my snake ‘to go’.

 

Snake in a bag. Or snake 'to go'.

With the snake gone I tried to work out what species it was.  Of course I’m convinced that it’s something exciting.  Python maybe?  I ‘Googled’ Costa Rican snakes.  Not a good idea.  It’s the same way you shouldn’t use Web MD when you don’t feel well.  By the time you’re done comparing your symptoms with the information online you’re convinced you’re not going to make it another 24 hours.  I am no closer to knowing what type of snake it was.  I do now know though that Costa Rica has more than 130 varieties of snake, with a good number of them being venomous.  I also learned that if I am bitten by a snake, I’m to kill it and take it with me to hospital so it can be identified.  Oh, and I’m not to panic while I’m tending to the bite with one hand and clutching the dead snake with the other, because the more you move around, and the more you panic, the quicker the venom courses through your veins.  I should have plenty of time to get to the clinic for the antidote though.  Apparently you have 2-5 hours before serious systemic manifestations will occur.  Not bad.  I only have about half an hour with bad bee stings before I go unconscious.