Well, the Murphys are happy to announce that after 8 years of “not being a family”, we have finally gained family status. While it is not a dog that promoted us to this rank, I assert that it still counts: we are the proud owners of one indolent African Tree Frog.
“Hopper” (though he does not hop at all) was a hand-me-down pet from the Moya-Mendez’. And just in case you're tempted to speculate about his future: no, we do not have plans to dissect him – I promise. We would of course never dream of dissecting an amphibian with a name – that would be cold blooded murder. He is also too great an object lesson on slothfulness to put under a knife. Seriously. He climbs – with great effort – into his water bowl, and rests there for 2-24 hours. Then – with even greater effort – he slowly (and I mean s l o w l y - a process of several hours) climbs onto his “tree” (a slanted tile.) There he sits - or gradually slides down – for however many days it takes to slide all the way to the bottom. Subsequently he moves -in his timely fashion- into his water bowl again and the (weekly) routine starts all over again.
Hopper “hunts” live crickets - that we kindly store in a cute cage for him. NO, we don't beat the bushes for crickets - some looney (at the bait and tackel shop) does and we conveniently buy them. But you can imagine that our house now sounds like a swamp! So if you desire "the more luxurious" camping experience, bring your sleeping bag and come have an indoor outdoor experience in our mudroom. You can even observe our frog stalking his prey: wait…wait…wait some more… a little longer... until we (desperate for his survival) drop a cricket into his mouth...gulp…sit…sleep…slide… until the next unfortunate insect delivery.
Oh Hopper (and young men of mine): go to the ant, observe him!