One Frog, Two Frog, Red Frog, Dead Frog.

You know how in Asia every year has a different animal attached to it? (I think my birth year was the year of the rat. Gross.) Well, I have officially declared this year to be the year of the frog. Here's why.

Frog #1:
(remember him?) We named him Freddie. He lost his leg in a tragic suicide jump attempt.

Frog #2:
We named him Freddie. He hopped into our campsite and spent 45 minutes in Aubrey's hand. Eventually we put him in the grass. He didn't hop away. (If you know what I mean...)

Frog #3:

Poor, poor frog number three. He survived Ruby the attacking dog and Aubrey the playful girl. In the end though, he fell through the cracks. Literally. The cracks of a 2nd story balcony.
It wasn't pretty.

Frog #4:
The little thing made his appearance inside our house on my dust pan. Scared the poop out of me. We named him Freddie. (Pattern, anyone...?) He was so teeny tiny and absolutely adorable we let him go on the spot. Lucky guy.

Frogs #5, 6, and 7:
Frogs 5-7 were found by Luke while I was at work. They were put into a pink Tupperware and left for me to discover in the morning. Frog #7 (Freddie) was found dead on arrival. Frog #5 (Freddie) was held for a few minutes and then made a daring escape under the entertainment center. Which I moved to get him out. That was a bad idea. He got semi-squished. (But survived. Sort of.) Frog #6 (Freddie) got lost under the couch and I don't want to talk about the details. And then the miracle happened. Frog #7 came back to life.
True. Story.
(Or he was playing dead the whole time. Which in the end, turned out to be a rather successful strategy.)

Yea for the year of the frog!
I think next year should be the year of the dog.

I'm just saying...