Marshmellow the Frog

As some of you know, I'm a bit more than a disbarred lawyer, bottom-feeding blogger, broadcast journalist and highly-trained, well-conditioned athlete. I'm also the reigning Lehigh Valley Hearts champion. Tournaments take place at friends' homes because card-playing is still illegal in Nazareth. Most take place at the residence of a prominent local attorney whose identity is a closely guarded secret. His wife is a great cook, and that's really the only reason I visit. He himself is barely competent. But I'll give him this. He loves animals. This story is about his pet frog Marshmellow.

Marshmellow is an albino who spent most of his time in a 5 gallon tank, waiting. He used to share the tank with a few fish, but ate them all. Now he lives alone, just like me, and spends most of his time submerged. But if you put your finger anywhere on the tank, he'd come for you. It was his way of saying Hi.

My lawyer friend is an amateur batrachologist. He told me Marshmellow is a male and even pointed to the amphibian's tiny testicles. Marshmellow offered no objection and actually seemed to smile with pride.

On Memorial Day, when I last visited my friend, Marshmellow was missing.

"I think he had a stroke," I was told.

"Are you sure it isn't Covid-19?" I asked.

I assumed that, like most aquatic pets, Marshmellow was given a nice memorial service and perhaps a rendition of Amazing Grace before he was flushed down the hopper. But that's not what happened. My distraught friend instead called Lehigh Valley Animal Hospital over this medical emergency. Unfortunately, no frog doctors were on duty that weekend, and the nearest frog hospital was located in Trenton. That's where my friend and his wife took their ailing amphibian. A six hour round trip.

Marshmellow was, of course, immediately hospitalized. Numerous medical tests were ordered. There was blood work, x-rays, cat scans and MRIs. The bill on entry was about $900, with more billing to follow.

After a day or two, a busy specialist called. Marshmellow is a she, not a he, and was both laying eggs and shedding her skin at the same time. She needs a 10-gallon tank, not a 5-gallon tank, and should have a long life of 15-20 years. To play it safe, Marshmellow was kept under observation for a day.

My friend et ux made another six-hour round trip to retrieve their slippery salientia and introduced her to her new home - a 10-gallon tank. She was nevertheless lethargic and passed away after two days.

My friend located a heart-shaped tin and, after a brief memorial service, interred Marshmellow in his back yard.

I'll miss her.