Female frogs have a shocking escape move. They literally play dead. 🐸
A new study has revealed that female European common frogs may fake their own death to avoid unwanted mating attempts.
During breeding season, male frogs often scramble aggressively for mates, sometimes piling onto a single female in what’s called a “mating ball.” These situations can be dangerous — even fatal — for females. Until now, scientists believed females had little control.
But that assumption was wrong.
Researchers from the Natural History Museum of Berlin found that females actively use multiple tactics to escape:
• 83% tried twisting and rotating their bodies
• 48% made distress calls like grunts and squeaks
• 33% entered tonic immobility — stiffening their bodies and lying motionless, appearing dead
This “playing dead” behavior, known in science as tonic immobility, was especially common in smaller, younger females, who often combined all three tactics together.
And it worked.
At least 25 females successfully escaped the males using these strategies.
Even more fascinating? The behavior isn’t new. A description of frogs doing this exact thing was found in a book from 1758 — then forgotten for centuries.
Scientists say this discovery challenges the idea that females are passive in mating and shows they actively defend themselves, even using extreme strategies when needed.
Once again, nature proves it still has secrets — even in species we think we know well.
CAT RETURN HOME TO HIS OWNER FOUR YEARS AFTER EARTHQUAKE SEPARATED THEM
Dora’s life changed completely when powerful earthquakes struck her small village in central Italy. In the chaos and destruction, she lost her home, and also her beloved cat who had always been by her side.
Frightened by the tremors and confusion, the cat ran away and disappeared. Despite searching and hoping for his return, there were no signs of him for years.
Still, Dora never gave up. For four long years, she held onto the belief that one day she might see her little companion again.
Then, in the most unexpected way, the cat finally returned home.
Their reunion was filled with affection and gentle cuddles, as if no time had passed at all. For Dora, it was a reminder that some bonds are so strong that even years apart cannot break them.
Her body temperature was 93°F when they found her. The baby’s was 98.6. Exactly normal.
Her body temperature was 93°F when they found her. The baby’s was 98.6. Exactly normal.
Anna Dahl was 27. She lived in a rented farmhouse off Route 11 outside Canton, New York. Her husband Erik worked long-haul routes for a freight company out of Ogdensburg. He was in Pennsylvania that week.
Their daughter Elsa was nine days old.
Their cat Clover — a five-year-old calico — had slept at the foot of their bed for three years. When Elsa came home from the hospital, Clover moved. She started sleeping beside the bassinet. Every night. Anna thought it was curiosity. It wasn’t curiosity.
On January 14, 2024, a nor’easter knocked out power across St. Lawrence County. The farmhouse had electric baseboard heat. No fireplace. No generator. The power went out at 11:40 PM. The temperature outside was minus 4°F.
Anna had been running a fever since that morning. She had developed mastitis — a breast infection common in the first weeks after delivery. By midnight, her fever had spiked to 103.2°F. She was on the couch with Elsa in the bassinet beside her. She was going to call Erik. She was going to get blankets from the bedroom.
She passed out at approximately 12:15 AM.
The house began to cool. Without electric heat, the interior temperature dropped roughly 3 degrees per hour. By 2 AM it was 48°F inside. By 4 AM it was below 40°F.
Elsa was in the bassinet in a single cotton onesie and a thin receiving blanket. Nine days old. Seven pounds one ounce. A newborn cannot regulate body temperature. Below 60°F, hypothermia begins within an hour. Below 40°F, a baby that size can die in under three hours.
At 7:20 AM, Anna’s neighbor, Dale Buckley, 64, came to check on her. He’d seen the dark windows. No tire tracks. He knocked. No answer. He opened the unlocked door.
The cat’s body was cold. Not cool. Cold. Her ears were ice-white. Her breathing was slow and shallow. She was conscious but did not move when Dale reached in. She was stiff. Her body had given everything warm it had.
Elsa was asleep. Pink. Breathing normally.
Dale called 911. The paramedics arrived at 7:38 AM. They checked Elsa first.
Core body temperature: 98.6°F.
In a house that was 34°F.
After seven hours without heat.
Exactly normal.
They checked Clover. Her body temperature was 93°F. Normal for a cat is 101.5°F. She was in moderate hypothermia. She had been transferring her own metabolic heat to the baby for approximately seven hours. Cats run warmer than humans. She had enough heat to give. And she gave it until she almost had none left.
The paramedic, a woman named Sofia Medina, said: “The cat was the only reason that baby was alive. I don’t know how to write that in a report, but that’s what happened.”
Anna was treated for mastitis and dehydration. Elsa was examined at Canton-Potsdam Hospital. No cold-related injury. No complications. Perfectly healthy. The doctors used the word “miraculous.” Sofia corrected them. She said: “It wasn’t a miracle. It was the cat.”
Clover was treated by Dr. Hannah Yeo at North Country Veterinary. Hypothermia. Mild frostbite on both ear tips. Exhaustion. She was warmed slowly over six hours. She ate an entire can of food and slept for two days.
Her ear tips turned permanently dark — the tissue scarred from frostbite. They never went back to normal. Two small black marks on a calico cat. The only visible evidence of what she did on the coldest night of the year.
Anna brought Clover home three days later. She set the carrier down in the living room and opened the door. Clover walked out, went directly to the bassinet, and lay down beside it.
She has never stopped.
Elsa is fifteen months old now. She sleeps in a crib. Clover sleeps under it. Every night. Same position. Between the baby and the cold.
