Often brown, the Cuban treefrog may change colors in only a few minutes.
Let’s talk Cuban Treefrogs, Osteopilus septentrionalis. These interesting frogs are not only now a very real part of Florida’s unnatural history, but have been for close to 80 years now. And no matter your outlook on their presence, you might as well face the fact that unless Mother Nature herself takes a hand, this frog is here to stay.

The Cuban treefrog is a member of the bony-headed treefrog group. It was introduced to the Florida Keys, probably inadvertently in commerce, in the 1920s. It thrived in its new home but its presence was basically ignored. By the early 1950s the frog populations had outgrown their insular home and had become well established on the southern peninsula. This fact was commented on by herpetologist-researcher, Al Schwartz. By 1958, when I moved to FL comments were being made about the voracious appetite of the Cuban treefrog and laments were heard that it would out compete (it can do so) and eat all of our native hylid frogs (at a 5.5” body length adult females would certainly be capable of eating most native species) and the demise of our natives within the growing range of the Cuban was imminent—totally and completely. But here we are, nearly three quarters of a century later, and this disappearance still hasn’t happened. Populations of native hylids may be somewhat reduced here and there, and we may have some fat Cuban treefrogs, but I can still go to the Everglades or Lake Okeechobee or almost anywhere else and still hear vibrant choruses of green treefrogs, squirrel treefrogs, and when within their ranges and habitats, of pine woods and barking treefrogs. Compare the statistics with habitat reduction or loss caused by humans and the “damage” caused by Cuban treefrogs is negligible. In fact, it is in disturbed areas that Cuban treefrogs seem most abundant.

Researchers at the Univ. of Florida have this to say about Cuban Treefrogs:

Cuban Treefrogs eat at least five different species of native frogs, not to mention the occasional lizard or small snake, and their tadpoles compete with native tadpoles for space and food. Cuban Treefrogs are common in urban areas, where they hang out near lights on the walls of houses and catch insects. They often poop on walls and windows (leaving ugly stains), take over birdhouses, and lay eggs in fish ponds and bird baths. Sometimes Cuban Treefrogs even find their way into homes, hanging out in toilets and clogging sink drains. Cuban treefrogs grow very large, and are known to cause costly power outages by short-circuiting utility switches. Our native treefrogs are all much smaller, and aren't known to cause such utility problems.

In other words, the Cuban treefrog is doing exactly what every other treefrog, every other anuran for that matter, does to exist. Asking the same question posed by Rob Macinnis, how long is a species required to live here to be granted the same consideration as a native taxon?

Please understand that I am not even suggesting how you should treat this species if you live in their ever-expanding range. We have them in our yard where they coexist with several other frog taxa. Here they are welcome.

Here is a vocalizing male Barking Treefrog, Hyla gratiosa. By a small margin, this is our largest native eastern treefrog.

The calls echoed one another from both shoulders of the country roadway upon which Patti and I stood in the darkness. We were well away from the glare of city lights, and in the darkness of a new moon the heavens were fairly atwinkle with myriad stars.

From above us came the nasal "peeeents" of a nighthawk. We could picture it cleaving the darkened skies on white-barred wings as it sought its repast of flying insects. An occasional "whrroooomm" (wind through wing feathers) would divulge to us the fact that as well as feeding the nighthawks were indulging in courtship dives.

Even louder and more pervasive than the sounds of the nocturnal birds were those of the amphibians. A chorus of coarse, porcine, grunts from out the marshes were the calls of pig frogs, Rana grylio. Named for its porcine like notes, the pig frog is nearly as large familiar bullfrog, R. catesbeiana.

Vocalizing with the pig frogs, were fair numbers of a species at the opposite extreme of the size spectrum. This was the pretty and very variable little hylid frog that is known commonly as the Florida cricket frog. Scientifically it answers to the name of Acris gryllus dorsalis. This elfin frog must certainly have derived its name from its size for I perceive no similarity between its pebble-like clicking call and the notes of even a very out-of-tune cricket of any species.

During our evening's perambulations, we were serenaded by lesser numbers of numerous other species as well. Accompanied by the dot-dash calls of pine woods treefrogs, Hyla femoralis, inquisitive barred owls asked "who-cooks-for-you, who-cooks-for-you-all?" Green treefrogs, Hyla cinerea, "quonked," and a single barking treefrog, H. gratiosa, voiced its hollow notes. Wherever there was even a trace of moisture, little grass frogs, Pseudacris ocularis, our smallest anuran species, tinkled animatedly. These tiny hylids, adult females of which top out at a whopping 11/16ths of an inch, are the smallest species of anuran in the United States, and among the smallest in the world.

If closely analyzed Mother Nature’s evening choruses will introduce you to what is for many an unsuspected facet of the surrounding world. And it’s FREE! Partake.