The day I let it go was a warm, spring-like day. Mid-February. I put it by a river bank in a shallow pool adjacent to a concrete overhang that concealed a kind of den. Do you think she could've crawled under there and made it into hibernation?
Guess I'm feeling guilty and shooting in the dark. No, bullfrogs are not native here and are quite a menace. By the way, what is 'hypoxia?'
It's just that these frogs. . .they seem to get into your subconcious, your soul. The way it used to look at me, and the intelligence it conveyed, and the reality of its predicament at the end. . .the cold stare as it ambled towards my feet by the river bank. . .man, it moves my heart to think I abandoned it.
Oh, well, guess frogs get crushed on roads, eaten by people, preyed on by animals. I've got to look on the tough side of things now, and not play God. But sorry, all you frog-lovers, if I only had the right environment I could've made it all better. Asia is just packed with too many people.