“You’re nuts,” my surgeon neighbor said to me. “Frogs don’t live for 15 years.”
“Apples has, and he’s as healthy as ever,” I told him.
Apples is a cute little green frog that hangs out on top of the cabinet in my garage. Over the years, Sherry and I have provided him a mason jar lid pond, a heat lamp, plenty of green grass and lots of love. Actually, Apples most enjoys staying next to some rusted bolts, broken pliers and a yellow crayon, but I know he appreciates the pond when it gets really warm.
I check on him each morning before I go to work and look for him when I return home. Apples is an affluent frog and goes on lengthy vacations, sometimes for months. I don’t worry. I just make sure his neighborhood stays in order, and Apples always shows up sooner or later.
My neighbor, the surgeon, is a busy man, but when he doubted the existence of Apples, I made him follow me to my garage. Thank goodness Apples was home lounging against the yellow crayon.
“Don, you need to get a life,” he told me.
I don’t think surgeons have time for frogs that live on and on.
It’s okay. I do.