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Doggin' the frogs


Ding dong the coqui's dead,
citric acid on his head,
ding dong the coqui frog is dead (two, three, four)
Not much bigger than a dime,
douse him with hydrated lime,
ding dong the coqui frog is dead.....

Yes, he's dead. Actually, there were two of the little buggahs on our neighbor's property, chirping up a storm, having us all wondering when the two would transform into 30, then 60 then on and on until we were just like lower Puna district, listening to 10s of thousands of them all night long. I am being credited by the neighbor across the street for the frogs' demise, since I am the one who called the coqui police and they, in turn, contacted the other neighbor to lend them a hand in the eradication effort. Ta da!
I do feel a little sorry for the cute little guys. It's not their fault some stupid human neglected to inspect a shipment of plants from Puerto Rico years ago and let their ancestors stow away enroute to Hawaii. Of course, I still, for the life of me, do not get why Hawaii feels the need to import plants from Puerto Rico or from anywhere for that matter. Seems to me we have quite enough plants here already, thank you very much. Ah, but what do I know.
And speaking of police, I hope the copywrite police are snoozing. I stole this photo from Google images. I didn't see any mention of rights or any letter c with a circle around it, so I'm pretty sure I'm in the clear, but I thought I'd mention credit here anyway, just in case. Old journalist precautions never die...
Anyway, the frogs have croaked. Aloha! Which, as you may recall, also means goodbye.

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