"Roscoe and the Frog"

I was warm and comfy in my bed. The mattress and pillows were perfectly mushed. My cover was soft and hugged me gently. This must have been heaven.

I got a rude awakening a few minutes later from my new puppy. Roscoe was whining in an excessive amount. That could only mean one thing: Potty Time. I groaned, considered letting him mess his cage, and got up.

I carried Roscoe, Pet Taxi and all, out of my room. I slipped on my shoes and opened the door. I sat the green box down and opened the door. The puffy black fur ball waddled out of his cage.

Roscoe was small but very chubby. When he ran, his back end tended to pass the front. Although, he could only run a few feet before he had to lay down. Once, I'd gotten him to run a longer distance, only to have him throw -up on my shoe. After that, I carried him most the way.

I wasn't until a second after I opened the door that I saw it. The frog must be bigger than Roscoe, and a lot louder. I eyed the frog carefully, praying for it not to make a noise. It didn't make a noise but it hopped over Roscoe.

Roscoe was scared of everything under the sun. In the three days we've had him, we had discovered a lot of things. The list of things included his shadow, my hair, several of the toys we had bought, stake shaped doggy treats, the broom and the television. I knew, that we could add this frog to our lists.

Roscoe, however, followed the frog. As the frog jumped, Roscoe would follow suit. I'd never seen him jump so high. He wasn't quite as graceful as the frog, but it was cuter. He would try to pounce on the frog, like a cat would, and make the frog jump.

I watched the two dance around the yard in the pale light radiating from the porch. I laughed and laughed at Roscoe and the frog. That was, until the frog started to chase Roscoe. The big green mass pounced on Roscoe and The small puppy yelped.

Roscoe, athlete that he is, shot across the yard and into his box. I groaned at the frog who sat not far away. I reached my hand into the box slowly. Roscoe nipped my hand and I gasped. His teeth were sharp.

I reached in again and pulled him out. Well, I at least tried at pull him out. His yelps filled the air, as if I were hurting him. I put him next to my foot and he made a mad dash for the box.

I finally gave up and closed the door again. There was no getting Roscoe out of it now. I turned to the frog. He was sitting a bit closer than last time. He croaked smugly at me.

"This is all your fault," I growled at him. He croaked again, this time it sounded like laughter. The big green mass turned and bounced away, croaking out laughter.

I picked up the shaking box and walked back inside. That stupid frog would cost me more than he knew. This episode only meant one thing. I would have to wake up again to deal with my poor scardy cat of a puppy.