Just like most everyone else, I used to be a pet owner. I’ve had fish, dogs, cats and even at one point in my childhood, a lizard. When I was married we attempted to have a dog, two different times. I love dogs, but I don’t think it’s fair to keep them caged up all day while at work or school. Needless to say, I did give our dogs away, though we were able to relocate them to happy homes with owners who would be on their beck and call.

My kids don’t really remember this very well because they were so little, and one of the dogs was before the twins’ time.

This past week we returned from our road trip journey to Florida. When we are in Florida we stay with my best friend. She has two dogs. The oddest combination of fur I must say. One of her beasts is a 220lb English Mastiff, he is beautiful and that makes up for his anxiety and severe case of being socially awkward. Her other dog is what we would like to call a Dingo, she rescued him from a shelter. No one really knows his breed but he looks like a mix between a fox and a coyote. He is honestly the sweetest dog. Every night while we were staying at her humble abode the children all argued where the Dingo dog (aka Yeller) was going to sleep. The English Mastiff was not a popular bunkmate with the kids, he slept in the room where I was.

When we drove home the hot topic of discussion was brainstorming ways to get Mom to buy a dog. They tried by telling me everything they would do to take care of him and help me out.  As much as I would love to give them a puppy right now I just cannot due to leaving the animal alone and it’s just an extra expense I do not need right now.

We arrived at home late Thursday evening. Then the children went to their dad’s house on Friday for the weekend. When they returned to me they were happy and relieved to be home.

Soon after, Kelsie, one of the twins, came running in the house frantically asking me for a plastic bag while she grabbed it out of the drawer.  I assumed they were up to something outside and it was only a matter of time before I found out. I reference them as either the dynamic duo or Thing 1 and Thing 2. They are always exploring their curiosity (which leads to occasional trouble).

I was right.

The duo came barreling through my door with the plastic sandwich baggie and in it their little friend, a frog whom they had named “Nothing.” Yes his name was Nothing. Very unique. They rushed over to the kitchen sink to add water to the bag so the frog could swim. Bless their little hearts they were convinced that the frog could live in the baggie as though it was a fish tank. They made such effort to giving me reasons as to why we should keep him, he was their pet, he doesn’t shed like dogs do, and we don’t have to take him out to use the restroom. The main reason was that they should have a pet too just like the rest of their friends.

I understood, because I did the same thing to my parents when I was a kid.

I walked outside with them and explained how we didn’t have the right type of home for him but if they let him live in our flower beds that would be a good home for him. And (bonus!) since we live by a lake maybe he will come back and visit. What do you know, it worked.

It has been several days, and I haven’t heard anything about Nothing since we set him free.