2011 was apparently the Year of the Frog at our house
…the DEAD Frog.
We’ve had two African Dwarf Frogs for about a year and a half. As far as pets go, they’re even more low maintenance than hermit crabs with stripper names and they don’t bark or shed, although you do have to remember to feed the little guys every few days (even amphibious creatures are picky like that) and change their water.
Several months ago I noticed that one of the frogs was looking a little bloated and, not knowing if it was male or female, I chalked it up to perhaps a bad case of frog PMS or, God forbid, frog pregnancy. But then days later I saw the frog belly up and floating on top of the water.
This is one case where “HEY WE’VE GOT A FLOATER” isn’t something you shout from the pool or bathroom.
Hubby retrieved his cold little body with a net and buried him in the yard with the girls after a brief, but lovely, ceremony that involved praying for the frog’s well being in heaven and we all moved on with our lives.
Fast forward to just before Christmas break when Miss C, my 4th grader, came home excited to report that her home room class had an “adopt a creepy crawly critter just in time for the holidays” assignment. We had three choices: a millipede (God help me), a fiddler crab, or an African Dwarf Frog. She brought home a fiddler crab which bit the dust as soon as she brought him home. I don’t think he tolerated the cold car rider line after school. There were surplus African Dwarf Frogs, though, and she asked her teacher if she could bring one home, knowing it would help cheer up Miss A after the loss of her frog.
Miss A named the new replacement dwarf frog Tablet because he was flat like a computer tablet.
Tablet never made it to the New Year. He exhibited symptoms of the dreaded bloated frog belly disease days later and croaked, no pun intended, shortly thereafter.
This all went down one morning before school, but of course, so hubby told a distraught Miss A that we’d bury the new frog later and then he put retrieved it’s cold little body with a net, placed it in a Dixie cup, and then we sent it to the frog morgue, also known as our freezer, so it wouldn’t decay while we were gone all day at work or school. And then the holidays came along and blah blah blah but we kind of forgot about the frog burial and I didn’t have the heart to just toss the little guy into the garbage on trash collection day without a proper farewell. Kids can be really sensitive about pets, even cold, slimey ones.
Several days later I noticed the “old” original frog, AKA The Survivor, was looking a little pale and bloated in the frog ecoaquarium. He never made it to 2012, either. I had to explain to Miss A that perhaps they had some sort of frog flu and, frankly, I think we’re all over the era of frogs and content to just dote on Jack the dog.
So now you know why we have two tiny frozen frogs in our freezer and it’s not because we’ll be serving up frog legs any time soon.
We have GOT to schedule a frog funeral this weekend.
p.s. What’s the weirdest thing in your freezer?