Croaky is our pet African clawed frog. Yesterday, he had a big adventure.
Usually he sits nicely in his swamp and does nothing but eat bloodworms, surface for air, and give and occasional croak. It would've been another boring day for the frog had I not decided to clean his swamp.
I removed his swamp decorations and proceeded to dump out his smelly water. Croaky decided that he wasn't going to sit still and let me do that. He took a flying leap - right out of his tank. Where did he land? In the kitchen sink.
"Croaky, what did you do that for?" I asked.
He didn't answer. He just slid around on his belly as he frantically tried to get out of there and find his swamp.
I attempted to grab him. Do you know what it's like to try to hold on to a slimy, slippery frog? It isn't easy! I caught him, but he wriggled right out of my hands - into the garbage disposal. I had placed a colander over the opening, but Croaky somehow managed to slip under it and fall down into the disposal.
Terrific! Now I had to reach down into the garbage disposal, avoid the dangerous blades, and grab a slimy, slippery frog. It took several tries, but I got him. Almost.
I pulled him out. But then he slipped out of my hands - right back into the garbage disposal.
"You stupid frog!" I said to him. "Don't you know that's the worse place in the world to be?"
Apparently he didn't, because this happened three more times.
Finally I got a hold of that dumb creature and plopped him back into his stinky swamp.
I think he wondered why his swamp was still filthy. He swam around in the muck looking completely befuddled.
I gave him one of my ferocious mommy glares. "That's what you get for giving the Mama a hard time!"