I spent the weekend with Jerry and his children. Their nicknames are Monk and Mem. We did all kinds of fun things; went to the circus, out to lunch, saw the movie Wild Hogs, and did a little shopping. We were killing some time Sunday while driving around and decided that we would give each person 4 minutes to talk about anything he or she wanted. When it was Monk's turn to talk, he talked about frogs.
Monk's Frog Tales
Monk is twelve and told us about something that happened when he was four years old. Jerry had found him several tadpoles and Monk raised them by hand to little frogs. One by one the frogs expired, whether from incorrect nutrition, old age, disease, fishbowl syndrome or some other ailment. Monk got really sad each time a frog died. His family would leave home for the day and return to discover a little green thing, floating belly up on the surface. The family would find a jewelry box and have a funeral for the thing, then bury it in the backyard. Monk would preside over the funeral, saying words about how much the frog had meant to him.
Only two frogs survived. Monk loved the little frogs and took good care of them. He fed them daily, petted them, talked to them, read stories, sang to them. He was determined to be sure that the remaining two pets didn't also succumb to an early mortality. He named them "Ribbit" and "Greenie".
Ribbit was his absolute favorite. Monk felt a special connection to the amphibian. One day he was especially proud of Ribbit. Monk wanted his dad to see how Ribbit was using some new rocks and a little frog house. He asked Jerry to come and look. Jerry approached the terrarium and peered into the glass. As he brought his face close, Ribbit seemed to notice Jerry.
Ribbit was sitting on one of his new rocks and his attention was drawn to the unfamiliar human face. The frog decided that he either needed to have a closer look at Jerry or he needed to attack! He jumped off the rock and lept toward Jerry's face. Apparently he didn't know or realize there was a glass wall in the way. Ribbit hit the glass at full speed, SLAMMED and smacked flush across his face and head. He slid down the glass, his entire little green body shaking and convulsing. The frog coroner ruled it death by blunt trauma, brought on by the typical case of captured frog brain fade. Ribbit was given the most glorious of funerals.
Monk's one remaining frog, Greenie, was cherished. She reached full growth and Monk became afraid that she would die too. He wanted Greenie to enjoy nature, to see what it was really like to live in the wild. Monk fretted and considered it for weeks. Finally he reached a decision. He would package the frog and take it to his Aunt Judy's farm. Judy had a lovely little pond, perfect for a lovely little frog. Monk would miss Greenie but Greenie would be so much happier in a pond, instead of a fishbowl.
Finally the day arrived for Greenie's release. All the family gathered around the pond and talked to Greenie. Monk took Greenie into his hands and told her to have a good life. He told her that he 
would miss her but that she was going to a better place, a place where frogs should live. Monk didn't know that Greenie's life would last only a few more seconds. Feeling free and frivolous, Greenie hopped out into the pond, aiming for a lilly pad. All the family watched collectively. They were determined to watch Greenie until she disappeared out of sight. Just as she almost reached the lilly pad, a large fish surfaced. All eyes grew large, all family members froze. Like a movie in slow motion, the fish gulped Greenie down in one swift SUCK. The entire family collectively went "Ooooh", their mouths hung open. They turned to look at Monk. Big tears filled his little eyes. The final frog funeral followed.
