Oink, oink, oink! Gordy and I had just left Frank Weed's home and had been told by Frank Jr. that we should beware the large number of adult feral hogs in the area.

Then I heard it: Oink, oink, oink! Not knowing exactly what a feral hog sounded like, I stopped in my tracks.

We were walking the marsh edge along Route 84 a bit east of Andytown, FL. Unless you're darn near as old as I, I'll bet you don't remember either that marsh OR Andytown. But in those days there was no Interstate, Routes 27 and 84 were only two lanes wide, and Andytown existed (if only consisting of a general store perched on the not too busy southeast corner of 27 and 84). And there were billboards -- the old-timey ones with a wooden superstructure that were loved while still standing by rat snakes, corn snakes, and skinks and sought as cover by a host of other herp species when they collapsed. In other words, we were in "herp central."

But it was kingsnakes, not rat snakes, that we were hoping to see as we walked the swamp edge along Route 84. Banded water snakes were abundant and finally I saw a king. Success. I bent down to pick the snake up and from just a few feet away in emergent vegetation came a series of "oinks." Oh me!

I hastily looked around for something sturdy to climb knowing in my mind that I was about to be besieged by a herd of ravening hogs. Imagine my humiliation when I found later that day that I had almost been treed by a pig frog, Rana grylio.

More photos under the jump...