It's Not Easy Being Green

Jack described it as a murder scene. And, in a sense, it was. If our puppy were on trial, he would have been found guilty on one count of frog-slaughter, and another of attempted ingestion.

While Jack was working in our home office on Friday morning, Indy was sniffing out some mischief -- and a snack. He found both in LJ's room, on a three-foot-tall bookshelf.


When Jack realized that Indy was nowhere in sight, he sensed trouble and ran upstairs just in time to find Indy trotting out of LJ's room with a stream of drool trailing from his jowls.


What exactly transpired we will never know for sure, but here's the evidence that was scattered across the carpet: a cracked plastic aquarium; one empty bag of frog food pellets; one bloodied puppy tooth; one dead African dwarf frog, and a second frog clinging to life. (Incidentally, I also found the shredded "How to Care for Your Frogs" brochure in the playroom. Apparently, Indy did not read the part about not eating the frogs.)

When Jack discovered the barely breathing "Croaky" struggling on his back, he scooped him up, delivered mouth to gill resucitation, refilled the busted tank, and plunged Croaky back into the water.

Sadly, "Hoppy" could not be saved despite repeated attempts with CPR and a mini-defibrillator Jack fashioned out of a AAA battery, fishing wire, and duct tape. In Jack's words: "There was nothing I could do. It looked like a trauma injury. He was kind of mangled."

Okay, so I realize I'm poking fun at the unfortunate and untimely death of my son's pet. You can report me to the SPCA if you want. But honestly, the whole situation is just ridiculous.

And although I may have found the circumstances regarding Hoppy's demise a bit laughable, the mere thought of telling LJ about his beloved, deceased Hoppy was not funny at all.

We decided to help ease the pain by buying another frog before LJ even knew about the incident. We knew we would have to tell him the truth, but we thought "Hoppy II" would help soften the blow just a little. Besides, we are not convinced that Croaky is going to make it. His rear leg sustained some sort of contact injury, so it remains to be seen whether Indy's great amphibian adventure will yield yet another victim.

I worried all day about how LJ would react. He still tears up when he talks about our beta fish, Max, who went to the great toilet in the sky nearly 6 years ago.

Losing a pet is never easy, no matter how small, or how slimy.

When LJ got home from camp, he noticed the frog's tank sitting in the kitchen and he knew something was up. We immediately, and as gently as possible, delivered the news that Hoppy had perished in an unfortunate act of doggy terror.

I'm not exactly sure how I expected LJ to respond, but it certainly didn't play out anywhere close to how I had anticipated it would.

It took all of us days -- weeks even -- to start healing from Viking's death in May. And I know that kids are resilient and this was "just" a frog, but still ...

Tonight, LJ instantly spiraled into the "5 stages of grief."

And he was finished with all 5 stages before you could even sing the first verse to "Froggy Went a Courtin".

8:24 p.m. - DENIAL - "He's not dead. He's right there! See him? I see two frogs!"

8:25 p.m. - ANGER - "Indy, I hate you!"

8:28 p.m. - BARGAINING - "Dad, how do you know he was dead? Maybe he was still breathing? What did you do with him?"

8:33 p.m. - DEPRESSION - Tears. Lots of them. Hugs. Lots of them. "Now I've lost three pets." More tears. More hugs.

And amazingly, at approximately 9:07 p.m., just 43 minutes after we'd delivered news that Hoppy had croaked, LJ entered the 5th and final stage of grief ... ACCEPTANCE.

"Dad, so if Croaky DOES survive his leg injury, can I get a third frog anyway? And a new tank? I really need a new, bigger tank."

Acceptance. And most important, resiliency.


This is a beautiful thing about children.

Each and every day we ask our children to face new challenges and not be afraid to fail. When they do fail, we implore them to try again.

And they do.

It happens in school, it happens in sports, it happens with their friends, and yes, it happens with pets.

Our children fall down, slap a band-aid on it, and move on.

They are the essence of resiliency.

There are two lessons to be learned in this whole frog debacle (besides, of course, keeping your aquatic pets out of your Newf's reach).

#1
 
"It's not easy being green." -- Kermit the Frog

#2
 

"Man never made any material as resilient as the human spirit. " -- Bern Williams


Amen to that. And may Hoppy's soul rest in peace.