I was in my father's garage today, helping him with some welding, when I heard a muffled, distressed squeaking noise coming from somewhere outside. I walked over to the door and held still, listening for the sound again. As I waited, I saw some fledgling wrens flitting about, but they didn't seem to be making the noise. Then I heard it again, and I zeroed into a more specific area, but still wasn't sure where the noise was coming from. I slinked toward the apple tree scanning with my eyes and listening for the sound again, and while it took a bit, I finally heard it again, localized it and found it on the ground.
It was a frog! And a snake. I grew up catching garter snakes (as my son does now) all the time as they sunned themselves in the woodpile or the garage. I knew they ate small amphibians and insects, but I never saw them eat anything, and since they aren't constrictors, I assumed they wouldn't be able to kill and eat something significantly larger than themselves. Apparently, I was wrong.
Garter snakes, as it would be, attack and kill their prey by shear jaw strength, and apparently, this little guy decided to demonstrate this for me. Part of me felt of bad for the frog, croaking as the snake ate it alive, but couldn't help but be amazed at the workings of the whole process. I had corn snakes as a young adult, and I've caught rat snakes in the chicken coop, so I'm well aware of how large their jaws can open, but this was absolutely astounding.
I wish I was there to see the whole process. Does a garter snake just grab a frog by the foot and wrestle it around until the frog gets too tired to fight back? How does it manage to get two flailing frog legs down it's gullet? Especially when the size discrepancy is so vast?
I can't say how long the whole process took. From when I heard the first distressed croaking, to the final picture, around twenty minutes had passed. But surely, that was the easy part...
