In 1990 I was 10 years old. I can remember the day we went to the Learning Shop to buy a tadpole and a “grow-a-frog” kit. It was very exciting to meet “Toby” and learn about his stages of development. He was a rather easy pet and my mom gave him only the best of care. I have memories of driving across town to get free filtered water from the Brewery for his tank. Soon he graduated from his small cup to a bowl, his bowl to a small tank, and eventually was granted the luxury of a 10 gallon tank as he morphed into a small water frog.
When I graduated from high school, he had become obese from all the pampering and earned the nickname “thunder-thighs.” My trips back home during breaks were always highlighted with seeing this grow-a-frog who had endured a decade. By the time I got married, he had developed cataracts but apparently had enough vision to spot his frog food each day.
Soon the kids came along and enjoyed knocking on the glass of his tank to see him jolt (which was the only movement he ever made). Last week my mother emailed the inevitable news…Toby was found “belly-up.” I thought a grow-a-frog that lasted NINE-TEEN YEARS deserved a shout-out in cyberspace. If I have any hope of ever appearing in the Guinness Book of world records, this might be it.