“Oh-kay-kee?” Richie repeats. “What’s that?”
“It’s an African name,” Mrs. Brisbane says.
“I like saying it,” Richie replies. “Okeke.”
“I know what he’ll say.” Heidi is very sure of herself. “He’ll say Og belongs in the swamp with his friends and family.”
“You don’t know that,” Gail declares.
They glare at each other.
“Dr. Okeke is a she. A woman,” Mrs. Brisbane says. “Let’s hear what she has to say.”
The door opens, and a smiling woman wearing big round glasses enters. “Are you ready for me now?” she asks.
“I certainly am!” I answer. After all, I’m more interested in meeting a herpetologist than anyone else is.
“Ah! Our Rana clamitans,” Dr. Okeke says, walking toward my tank.
“We call him Og,” A.J. explains.
I hear a rather poor imitation of a boing, and I realize right away that it’s Kirk.
Mrs. Brisbane gives him the kind of look that quiets him down.
Dr. Okeke leans down and peers into my tank. Her glasses make her eyes look unusually large, for a human.
“He’s a fine specimen,” she says. “A very handsome frog!”
“Thank you,” I answer politely.
“And you say he came from McKenzie’s Marsh?” she asks.
Mrs. Brisbane nods. “That’s what we’ve been told.”
“He was frognapped from his friends and family!” Heidi blurts out.
“But he loves Room Twenty-six,” Gail says. “And we love him!”
Yeah—they love me so much, they want to send me back!
“He came to us from another classroom,” Mrs. Brisbane explains. “We’re not sure what we should do.”
Dr. Okeke stops staring at me—thank goodness, as I was feeling a little edgy.
“Ideally, the best place to get a pet frog is to buy it from a dealer who raises them,” she tells the class.
“Yes, but it’s a little late for that,” Mrs. Brisbane replies.
“What you should know is that frogs in the wild are rapidly disappearing,” she says. “That’s a huge global concern.”
I’ll say it’s a big concern! Where are they disappearing to?
“What’s happening to them?” Sayeh asks. She’s so shy, I’m surprised she spoke.
“Diseases, new predators coming into their habitats, pollution in their water. In many places, their habitats are being destroyed by building houses,” Dr. Okeke says. “In order to slow their decline, in some places it’s absolutely illegal to take frogs out of the wild.”
Here I was worried that I’d end up in jail, but now I’m afraid Mrs. Brisbane will end up in jail! Austin March’s grandfather surely will be locked up.
“My advice is that you should never buy or adopt a frog if you don’t know where it came from,” the herpetologist continues.
“That’s good advice,” Mrs. Brisbane says. “But what about taking him back now?”
“It may be safe to release a frog if you release it to its place of birth,” Dr. Okeke continues. “But Og may have picked up human germs here in the classroom that could affect the other creatures back in McKenzie’s Marsh. It could wipe out an entire population near his home.”
Who . . . me? I’d never do a thing like that, if I could help it.
Home. My heart feels a little tug.
Home is where Granny Greenleaf and Uncle Chinwag and Jumpin’ Jack live. Home is full of crickets and dragonflies and other yummy bugs.
But home also has hungry enemies, like birds with large beaks.
Still, there’s no place like home.
But what if I have picked up something that would harm my friends and family? What if they all disappeared and I was to blame?
Richie suddenly jumps up and stands by his desk. “He’s our pet! We love him!”
Gail also rises to her feet. “What would happen to him back in the marsh? He could be . . . eaten!” She shudders.
I shudder, too, because it’s true.
“But he’s wild,” Garth insists. “He should live out in nature.”
“Should we all go live in caves? Because humans used to live out in nature, too.” That’s a surprising comment from Art.
Art may not always pay attention, but he is smart.
“But his friends. And family. He must miss them so much!” Heidi has tears in her eyes.
“You see our problem,” Mrs. Brisbane tells Dr. Okeke.
The herpetologist nods. “I do. But be careful not to think of animals as if they are human. They don’t necessarily think and feel the way we do. And life in the swamp isn’t easy.”
That’s the truth! Have you ever stared a snapping turtle in the face? Or been hungry for a long, long time? Even though I’m cold-blooded, that thought gives me a chill.
“Most wild animals don’t stay with their families,” Dr. Okeke says. “Many of you have pets that have left their parents and brothers and sisters.”
Everyone in the classroom is silent.
“There are other options,” Dr. Okeke says. “There’s a local wildlife center I work with called Piney Woods.”
“Oh! I’ve been there! It’s cool!” A.J. says.
Dr. Okeke nods. “It is cool. There are nature hikes, and we have an educational program with both indoor and outdoor exhibits. There are all kinds of animals there, from wolves to eagles. If you don’t want to keep Og as a pet, he could find a nice home there . . . and help educate people about frogs.”
Wolves? Eagles? I think I’d prefer to stay here with the big tads.
“But I think he should be in the wild!” Heidi says.
“I know,” Dr. Okeke agrees. “That’s why I mentioned this option. While he wouldn’t be back with his friends and family, we would create a natural environment for him with grasses and water. So it would be more like the marsh. And he’d have more space.”
The big tads are quiet for a moment.
“Could he hop around more?” Garth asks.
“Definitely,” Dr. Okeke replies. “And hundreds of children like you could see him and learn about frogs and how endangered they are.”
“Could we visit him there?” Sayeh asks.
“Of course!” Dr. Okeke nods. “Do you have any other questions about frogs?”
Gail giggles as she raises her hand. “If you kiss a frog, will it turn into a handsome prince?”
Dr. Okeke chuckles. “I can guarantee it will not. But it could make you feel a little sick. In fact, there are frogs that are deadly poisonous. Not Og, of course.”
“I definitely am not!” I assure them. The very thought of it!
“He peed on me,” Mandy blurts out. “And all I did was pick him up.”
Dr. Okeke goes on to explain that frogs often urinate when they are picked up. “It’s a natural defense against enemies.”
“But I’m not Og’s enemy,” Mandy replies. “I think he’s cute.”
I think Mandy is cute, too, when she’s not complaining.
“Og didn’t know that,” Dr. Okeke says. “How would you like it if a giant hand came down from the sky and picked you up?”
Mandy rolls her eyes and says, “I wouldn’t.”
After a few more questions, Mrs. Brisbane thanks Dr. Okeke. “You’ve given us a lot to think about,” she tells her. “And we thank you for your time.”
Before she leaves, Dr. Okeke passes out SAVE THE FROGS buttons. She even leans one up against my tank.
“Thank you!” I tell her.
“You’re welcome, Og,” she replies.
I hope humans will save the frogs. I hope my friends will save me!
* * *
Having a guest was special, but there was even more excitement in Room 26 at the
end of the week.
The big tads are always chatting and laughing when they aren’t studying. They’re as full of energy as a lively swarm of flies back in the swamp. But on Friday, they are even more energetic than usual.
They’re more like a billowing, buzzing swarm of locusts!
It takes me a while to figure out what’s causing the hubbub, but there is a lot of talk about Richie’s birthday party, which is coming up on Saturday.
We frogs don’t have birthday parties, but our hatchday parties are loud, leaping, jump-for-joy celebrations.
It sounds as if Richie’s will be one, too. He’s invited all the big tads, and he says there will be a magician to perform amazing tricks, like pulling a rabbit out of a hat! And that’s just part of Richie’s plans.
I couldn’t help noticing that I didn’t get an invitation, but neither did Humphrey.
So I am shocked right off my rock when Mrs. Brisbane announces that Richie will be taking Humphrey home for the weekend. He gets to go to the party!
I have to say, Richie does ask Mrs. Brisbane if I can come, too.
I am hopeful, until she says I am going home with her instead. AND that her husband has a special surprise for me.
I think pulling a rabbit out of a hat would be a pretty good surprise, but I wonder what tricks Bert has up his sleeve.
Tanks a Lot!
FLOATING. JUST FLOATING on a relaxing spring afternoon. My belly is full, the water is just right, and the peepers are singing their spring song. But what’s that shadow ahead? I take a giant leap, and sneaky Chopper misses me—barely. So much for a relaxing day, but that’s life in the swamp.
Luckily, life is more relaxing at my teacher’s house this weekend.
My first night there is pleasant enough. I get a juicy cricket treat—thanks, Mr. Brisbane!
But there’s nothing else I’d call special. What was Mrs. Brisbane talking about?
The next morning, the Brisbanes both go out in the car and leave me alone. I’m trying to imagine all the fun my friends are having at Richie’s hatchday—I mean birthday—party, so I decide to take my mind off what I’m missing. I launch into my weekend workout: jumping jacks, push-ups and giant leaps, followed by energetic splashing.
I want to see if I can hit the lid again, and once, I succeed!
After a while, the Brisbanes return with armloads of bags and smiles on their faces.
“Og, we’ve got another treat for you!” Mr. Brisbane announces. “Thanks to Pet-O-Rama!”
Pet-O-Rama must be quite a place. It’s where my tasty tidbits come from. Even Humphrey came from there, and I am a teensy bit jealous.
Mr. Brisbane wasn’t kidding about a treat for me. He spends most of the day fixing up my tank.
When he’s finished, the place looks pretty spiffy.
Now the dinky dish of water has been replaced and HALF of my tank is a lovely swimming pool. I’ll be able to dive and swim! BING-BANG-BOING! I do love to make a splash!
And he’s added some more leafy green plants. It’s not exactly like the swamp, but it feels more like home.
Mr. Brisbane tops off this perfect day by feeding me another tasty cricket—while Mrs. Brisbane is out of the room, of course.
“You don’t have to mention this to my wife,” he tells me.
Believe me, I won’t!
That night, when the house is quiet, I make up a new version of the hoppy frog song.
I sing a hoppy frog song,
I sing my song out loud.
I have a brand-new home now,
And I am feeling proud!
It’s fun to dive and swim around,
I love my new plants, too.
And to my friends the Brisbanes:
I really do thank you!
And when I’m feeling a little tired and ready to doze off, I think that Mr. and Mrs. Brisbane wouldn’t go to so much trouble if they were really planning to send me to Piney Woods.
Would they?
* * *
I’m pretty excited about returning to Room 26 on Monday. I hope that my neighbor, Humphrey, will notice the changes in my tank.
He doesn’t . . . at first. And neither do any of the other big tads. They’re too busy chattering away about the party like a crowd of cackling crows.
From what I hear, somehow Humphrey ended up being pulled out of the magician’s hat. I wish I could ask the little guy how that happened.
I notice other things, too. Like the fact that Heidi and Gail are best friends again. From the way they act, it’s hard to believe they ever called each other names or stuck their tongues out at each other.
“Thanks for sticking up for me,” Heidi says.
“I couldn’t let that bully treat you that way,” Gail answers. “After all, you’re my friend.”
I don’t know who that bully was. Could it have been George?
I guess Granny Greenleaf was right about problems having a way of working themselves out. Heidi and Gail are truly gold friends.
The fact that they’ve made up is more magical than pulling a hamster out of a hat!
Then my neighbor notices the changes in my tank and lets out a series of excited squeaks.
The big tads notice, too.
“Whoa, Oggy the Frog! That’s some snazzy swimming pool you’ve got there!” A.J. says as he leans down to inspect my tank.
The other students gather around.
“Now he can dive and swim,” Sayeh says softly. “He could be in the Olympics.”
“Or the Froglympics,” Kirk adds.
“And his tank seems a lot more swampy with all those new plants,” Miranda says.
“I think he needs some furniture,” Richie suggests. “Like a bed and a couch.”
Gail giggles. “And a TV!”
“How about a FIREPLACE?” A.J. hollers.
The bed and the TV sound nice. The fireplace—no, thank you!
Later, when the students leave Room 26 for home, Humphrey doesn’t waste any time in flinging open the door to his cage and scampering over to take a closer peek at my tank.
“Watch this!” I stand on my tippy toes on my rock and then leap into the swimming area with a giant, splashy dive. It’s a dive any frog would be proud of.
But is Humphrey impressed?
No way! The little guy panics and rushes back to his cage.
Oops! I forgot that hamsters shouldn’t get wet. I’ll try not to splash him in the future. I don’t want to upset him.
* * *
When Aldo comes in to clean, he has two surprises for me.
One is a treat: a mealworm. Thanks, Aldo.
He also notices my new and improved tank right away and thinks it’s awesome. “A frog like you deserves a swimming pool,” he says. “Now you can dive and leap as much as you want.”
“BOING-BOING!” I agree.
The second surprise is that he tells me he has applied to college and was accepted.
That’s what the piece of paper was all about, and he turned it in!
“Humphrey here found out at the party, but I wanted you to know, too, Og,” he says.
“Way to go!” I tell him, bouncing up and down on my rock.
It’s a hoppy celebration, something like a hatchday.
* * *
I feel very contented for most of the week.
I’m almost glad there are no more surprises. I can just think. Float. Doze. Be.
But on Thursday afternoon, suddenly Heidi shouts, “Look! Out the window—look!”
I hop up and down on my rock so I can get a good view.
Curtains of fluffy white flakes are falling from the sky, and the ground is already getting white as well.
“It’s snowing!” some of the students shout.
I’ve seen a few white puffs fall fro
m the sky before but nothing like this. When it’s cold enough for the white stuff, it’s time for me to take a long, long nap.
“Boy, I’ve never seen it snow so hard in my whole life,” Richie says.
Neither have I. I’ve never appreciated the quiet beauty of snow piling up. In the past, I’ve slept right through it.
My poor friends back in the swamp are probably sound asleep right now and missing this sight.
There is something to be said for being a classroom pet. Regular meals, no enemies, and now—snow!
Mrs. Brisbane helps her students get bundled up at the end of the day.
“See you tomorrow,” she tells us when she hurries out the door.
That’s what she always says . . . at least during the week.
The little guy next door just sits in his cage, staring out at the curtains of snow filling the empty parking lot.
He looks and looks . . . but Aldo’s car never arrives.
Aldo never misses an evening of work. Maybe he’s hibernating.
Outside, the whole world is white: Who knew this could happen?
There’s nothing out there except snow.
And more snow.
Very, very cold snow.
All that cold snow makes me feel very . . . very . . . sleepy.
* * *
It snows a lot more all night, and the next day, no one shows up for class—not even Mrs. Brisbane!
My little neighbor must have realized that nobody is coming to school because he flings open the door of his cage and stares out the window for a long, long time.
I sleep quite a bit, but when the bell rings for recess or lunch, I wake up. With no big tads making noise, I quickly drop back to sleep.
In the afternoon, I sleep more deeply, dreaming of the time that Jumpin’ Jack and I played a game of leapfrog, hopping over each other, and Jack landed nose to nose with a hungry-looking raccoon.
I’ve never seen a frog leap backward so far and so fast!
Life According to Og the Frog Page 8
