A couple of weeks ago, Emma caught a little hoppy friend at Grandma's house and named it Dot. Emma's been wanting an animal to call her own for a very long time, but I am just not up for a "real" pet (you know, the kind you have to walk and take to the vet and house train and pay for). But I liked this cute tiny frog and so we struck a deal. She could bring the wee froggie home and make it a little shoebox home to keep in the garage. If she could get it to eat, and remain committed to refreshing the habitat, Dot could join the family. But if it wouldn't eat after two days we decided it would be best to let her go so we could avoid an animal funeral.
Bless Emma's sweet little heart. We looked up how-to-have-a-pet-frog info online. She played with her frog every day, gave it fresh water, brought it freshly swatted flies and even a few live little bugs she managed to snag around the yard. She showed it off to the neighborhood kids and spoke proudly and affectionately of her pet frog. But Dot just wasn't meant for captivity. The beloved amphibian wouldn't eat any of the insect offerings we gave it. By day two it actually looked skinnier.
Emma asked if I'd take some pictures of her with Dot before we released it. The one on top is a perfect shot of Emma's sad smile (reserved for time such as this, when she's being brave...not letting on how hard something is, or when she's trying to reassure someone in a hopeless situation). Josh wept big alligator tears over the frog's departure, but Emma only allowed a few moments of misty eyes, maturely acknowledging it was better this way. She snapped this photo as Dot leaped to freedom.