The bullfrog is so named for his bullish mating call, the “jug-o-rum.” Here’s how the bullfrog got his name: Long ago, some dandy fop was cycling his velocipede around a Northern pond, lost in transcendentalist musings, when he heard what sounded like a bull bellowing from the shallow end. The dandy fop shined his lantern over the source of the sound and was astonished to find a frog frozen in place, hypnotized by the light. Thusly he dubbed it the “bull-frog” and returned home posthaste to his Latin dictionary to think of a more lofty name.
The bullfrog is a bit fatter than the green frog, but they look almost exactly the same save for the dorsolateral ridges on the latter’s back.
The bullfrog’s jug-o-rum is a deep, sexy, soulful call for mates like an Isaac Hayes song.
Scientists like to prank these guys by setting up speakers that play other male’s songs or placing frog mannequins in their way. We haven’t really learned much, but it’s fun to fuck around.
Two males will engage in combat over choice lily pads and whatnot. They get up right in each others craw, interlock hands, and wrestle with their forearms while they gronk and bonk at each other. It is a very froggy affair.
Paul McCartney once wrote a lovely little frog song called “The Frog Song.” I used to love this song as a kid—croaking bassline, psychedelic bridge, and epic finale wrapped up in a neat ork-pop package—and it still holds up. It was featured in a Rupert Bear cartoon, who is like the British Berenstein.
