So let's review the pet population up until a certain ghasty moment which I will relate. We had two frogs named "Cutie Cutie" and one parakeet named "Sweety Tweety". The bird is fine, by the way. Oh, and the aquarium of three (yes, three, now...I hope Doug took the latest casualty out of the freezer...) fish. The frogs we raised from tadpoles (we just bought them). One of them grew really fast and seemed very healthy (I guess). The other took forever to change into a frog and when he was finally a frog, was much smaller than the now Big Frog.
Big Frog and Little Frog seemed to live in harmony, eating and swimming, and...whatever frogs do. These are frogs that live in the water, by the way. One night before bed, however, Doug looked into the frog home and said "Rachael? Can you come here for a minute? How many frogs do you see?". Sure enough, there was only ONE frog in there. There is no way the other frog escaped (I looked to be sure). Big Frog's belly did seem quite...bulky? We told Fiona. She was sad and distraught. She was sure he had gotten under the bookcase (I looked again) but even if he had, he would still not be with us. She is ok with it now. I thought they were supposed to be friends, but I guess something was not quite right. We could get a free frog for a new friend (the people we bought them from say they LIKE to have company) but as Doug says, maybe we had better not. Now that the one and only Cutie Cutie has gone down this dark path, maybe he's developed a taste for his own kind.