Wildlife According to Og the Frog

by Betty G. Birney

  “Og, I’m so happy you’re here,” Miranda tells me.

  “Me too!” I say truthfully.

  The girls all unpack and get ready for bed, except for Gail, who just sits on the edge of her bed, frowning at the floor.

  I am confused because back in Room 26, Gail is always giggling. I haven’t even seen her smile since she arrived at camp.

  “Isn’t it great to see Og again?” Miranda asks her.

  Gail doesn’t look up. “Sure,” she says.

  She doesn’t sound like she means it, but I don’t take it personally.

  Then Gail blows out a huge sigh. “I wish all my friends were here,” she adds.

  Miranda looks puzzled. “I’m your friend.”

  “I know,” Gail answers. She still doesn’t smile.

  A girl called Lindsey, who’s making the bed above Gail’s, says, “I don’t know anyone here, but it seems like a fun place.”

  Gail still hangs her head. I want to be encouraging, so I chime in. “BOING-BOING!”

  Lindsey leaps up off her bed. “What was that?”

  “That noise?” Miranda points at me. “It’s Og.”

  “No way.” A camper named Kayla laughs. “Frogs croak or say ‘ribbit.’”

  “Og’s a special frog,” Miranda tells her. “Right, Gail?”

  Gail glumly nods.

  “Thank you!” I answer.

  “He did it again!” Lindsey tries to imitate my twangy voice. “BOING-BOING!”

  Kayla joins in. “BOING-BOING-BOING-BOING!”

  Miranda laughs, too. “I guess we’re used to it. Right, Gail?”

  This time Gail barely nods.

  Kneeling next to my tank, Lindsey stares at me. “He’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Me? Cute? Awwww. I’ll bet the crickets back in the swamp didn’t think I was so cute!

  “Let’s take him out and play with him.” Lindsey slides the top off my tank.

  “No!” Miranda jumps up. “He doesn’t like to be handled.”

  “I’ll be careful,” Lindsey says.

  Miranda shakes her head. “No. It’s not a good idea.”

  Thank goodness Miranda knows me so well. I really do not like to be handled.

  Lindsey grudgingly slides the top back in place and bends down so her nose is almost touching my tank.

  “Say hi again, Og!”

  “Hello!” I answer.

  She dissolves into giggles. A funny thing I’ve noticed about humans: Once one of them starts to giggle, people around them giggle, too. While Miranda and Kayla laugh loudly, the giggliest girl from Room 26 remains gloomy.

  The rest of the girls are still laughing at my boings when Ms. Mac comes in to check on us. “What’s so funny?” she asks.

  “Og!” Lindsey points to my tank. “He’s sooo cute!”

  “That’s our Og,” Ms. Mac says. So she thinks I’m cute, too!

  “How’s camp going so far?” she asks.

  Miranda smiles and answers, “Great!”

  Lindsey and a few other girls give Ms. Mac the thumbs-up sign. I wish I could do that!

  Kayla says, “This place is cool.”

  Only one girl doesn’t say anything.

  “Gail?” Ms. Mac goes over to her bed. “Are you okay?”

  Still hanging her head, Gail mumbles, “Yeah.”

  Ms. Mac pats Gail on the back and sends the other girls out to get washed up.

  Once they’re gone, Ms. Mac sits next to Gail on the bed. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t like camp,” Gail answers.

  Ms. Mac asks her if it’s the food, and Gail shrugs. Ms. Mac asks her if she isn’t getting along with the other campers. Gail shrugs again.

  “Look, you just got here,” Ms. Mac says. “You haven’t given it a chance yet, right?”

  “Mm-hmm,” Gail replies.

  “So, will you promise that tomorrow you’ll try to smile and join in? Just try. I think everything will look better in the morning.”

  The other girls return, and Gail goes out to brush her teeth.

  When she’s gone, Miranda tells Ms. Mac that the problem is that Gail misses Heidi, her best friend. “They do everything together,” Miranda explains.

  Ms. Mac nods. “I know. You girls can help by trying to get her more involved.”

  Kayla says, “She seems stuck-up to me.”

  Miranda assures her that Gail is usually a lot of fun. “I promise, we’ll try to make her feel better,” she tells Ms. Mac.

  Good old Miranda. She’s always willing to help out.

  When Gail returns, Ms. Mac turns out the lights, reminding the girls they have a big day tomorrow.

  They all give Gail a cheery “good night.”

  “Night!” I add, and Lindsey giggles.

  “Night, Oggie-woggie!”

  That’s a new one. I like Oggie, but I’m not sure about Oggie-woggie.

  Once it’s finally quiet, I hear someone sniffling a little. It’s not hard to figure out who it is.

  I float around my tank and think about my early days after I was frognapped from the swamp. I missed my friends so much it hurt, especially Jumpin’ Jack.

  I felt as lonely as a frog at a toad family reunion. (Toads are nice enough . . . but they’re not frogs.)

  I guess that’s how Gail feels.

  Even now, I miss my pal Humphrey. I hope he’s doing okay in the Blue Jays’ cabin. I hope he’s not afraid of the wild smells outside or the scratchy sounds under the floor.

  The sniffling stops, and it’s quiet in the Robins’ Nest.

  I vow to help Gail feel better in the morning, but it won’t be easy peasy.

  * * *

  The girls and I wake up to music so loud, I think it would drown out the bullying bullfrogs. That’s loud!

  Ms. Mac pops her head in the door. “Rise and shine, ladies. Breakfast in half an hour. Be there or be square!”

  There are some groans as the girls get up. They are definitely not shining.

  “How’d you sleep, Gail?” Miranda asks.

  “Okay, I guess,” Gail answers gloomily.

  Maybe she’s going to start trying to be more involved after breakfast.

  After getting dressed, the Robins rush around cleaning the cabin. Gail pitches in, but she still doesn’t look happy.

  Ms. Mac checks on the girls’ progress and then tells them to head down to the dining hall.

  “You too, Og,” she says, picking up my tank.

  * * *

  Later, Humphrey joins me on the table in the rec room, squeaking nonstop.

  “Squeak-squeak-squeak!” he repeats over and over.

  Maybe he’s trying to tell me he missed me.

  He seems to want an answer, so I finally boing, “Whatever you say, Humphrey,” and he quiets down.

  Before we even have time to get settled, Ms. Mac picks up Humphrey’s cage, and Katie takes my tank. “Come on. We’re putting you to work!” Ms. Mac tells us.

  Hey, nobody said anything about us working before. I guess this isn’t a vacation after all.

  “Squeak-squeak-squeak!” my pal says. Maybe he thought it was a vacation, too.

  They carry us to a large cabin with one wall completely open to the outside. From the front porch, I spot something through the trees that makes my heart beat like a bongo drum. Water! In the distance, there’s a pond or a lake or maybe even a swamp! I hope I can get a better look at it soon.

  Inside, the cabin reminds me of a classroom with tables and chairs. There’s no chalkboard, but there are big charts on the wall. One is all about trees, one is all about leaves, and one shows animal tracks.

  BING-BANG-BOING! There’s even a frog footprint!

  “Welcome to the Nature Center,” Ms. Mac sa
ys as Katie sets my tank on a table next to Humphrey’s cage.

  But Humphrey and I are not alone. Farther down the table is a shifty-eyed character Katie calls Jake.

  I hop up on my rock to get a better look, and Humphrey scampers to the top of his cage.

  When he sees Jake, he squeaks in alarm, and I totally understand.

  Jake, it turns out, is a snake.

  Humphrey probably never saw one before, but I have had a lot of experiences with snakes—all unpleasant! Now, not all snakes are bad, but I’d never turn my back on one. At an early age, Granny Greenleaf taught us young tads that “if you see a snake, you should worry . . . and hop away in a great big hurry.”

  A few tads who didn’t take her advice were sorry later!

  There’s another creature on the table, one that’s a bit less scary than a snake.

  “This is Lovey Dovey. She’s a mourning dove we found in the woods with a broken wing,” Ms. Mac explains. “She’s almost healed now.”

  Mourning doves have a low, sad call, which Lovey demonstrates. “Woo-oo-oo-oo.”

  “Eeek!” Humphrey exclaims. I guess he never heard a dove before.

  When Ms. Mac explains that the campers will be coming in for nature classes, Humphrey leaps on his wheel and spins. If you can believe it, he starts going even faster when the kids arrive.

  I think he likes being a classroom pet again. I do, too, but I am keeping my eye on Jake.

  Katie gives an interesting talk about animal tracks and then passes out sheets of paper to the campers.

  “See if you can match the track to the animal,” she explains. “Just draw a line from each set of tracks to the animal you think makes those tracks.”

  “Do we get graded?” A.J. asks.

  Katie smiles. “No, it’s just for fun.”

  I’m pretty sure if I took the test, I’d get them all right. But these big tads have never lived in the swamp, like I did!

  While they’re working, Katie lets them take turns coming over to see Humphrey and me and sketching our feet. Or in Humphrey’s case, his paws.

  I sit on my rock so they can get a good look at mine.

  “Please hold still, Humphrey,” Sayeh tells my neighbor. “If you don’t, my drawing will look all blurry.”

  He tries, but it’s not easy for a hamster to sit still for long.

  Then Katie tells the class the answers to the worksheet.

  “Yes!” Noah looks pleased with himself. “I knew I’d get them all right.”

  I can see that Noah knows a lot, but he reminds me a little of the bullying bullfrogs back in the swamp. According to them, they were the smartest, loudest, bravest, fastest animals in the swamp.

  Well, they were the loudest.

  At the end of the session, Ms. Mac asks Miranda if she can stay for a minute.

  “Squeak!” Humphrey says in alarm.

  I’m surprised, too, because I didn’t see Miranda do anything wrong, and at school, if you’re asked to stay after class, it’s because there’s a problem.

  When the rest of the campers are gone, Ms. Mac tells Miranda that she got a call from her mom.

  “Oh,” Miranda says.

  “She wants to make sure I am following the list she sent us,” Ms. Mac continues. “Do you know about the list?”

  Miranda nods.

  Ms. Mac takes a piece of paper out of her pocket and reads: “‘Dos and Don’ts for Miranda. No horseback riding, make sure she has a blanket at night because she gets cold easily, please check to see that she always has a water bottle with her, please allow her to make a short call to me each evening, let me know immediately if she has to see the nurse . . .’ That’s a lot of rules.”

  Miranda sighs. “I know. She worries.”

  “That is completely understandable. I assured her that the counselors are all trained, and we do the worrying here so the parents don’t have to. Do you want to go horseback riding?” Ms. Mac asks.

  “I’d like to try it,” Miranda says. “But I promised Mom I wouldn’t. She thinks I’m too small.”

  “You aren’t particularly small for your age,” Ms. Mac says. “We have different sizes of horses.”

  “I know,” Miranda answers. “She just doesn’t want me to.” She hesitates. “My mom didn’t even want me to go to camp, but my dad did. They’re divorced.”

  Ms. Mac nods.

  “She finally said yes, but then she wished she hadn’t,” Miranda explains.

  “Aren’t you related to Abby?” Ms. Mac asks. “She signed up for horseback riding.”

  Miranda nods. “She’s my stepsister. And my best friend. But we have different moms.”

  “Okay,” Ms. Mac says. “Most campers alternate horseback riding and swimming every other day. So, do you want to go swimming every day?”

  “I guess,” Miranda answers.

  I may not understand humans completely, but I think she really wants to go horseback riding.

  “We’ve had a few campers who are allergic to horses and don’t ride,” Ms. Mac says. “But the next thing on the list says, ‘No swimming if the water is cold.’”

  “The water won’t be cold now, will it?” Miranda asks.

  Ms. Mac thinks about it for a second. “No, but it can be a little brisk.”

  “Oh,” Miranda says.

  “Miranda, I don’t want you to disobey your mom, but she knew when she signed you up for camp that there would be no phone calls, only letters. Are you enjoying camp?”

  Miranda’s face lights up. “I love it! Everybody’s so nice.”

  “I told her she can check our website for news and photos every day. But when you write your mom today, why don’t you let her know that you’re having fun. Tell her some of the good things about camp, and maybe she won’t be so anxious,” Ms. Mac suggests.

  Miranda agrees, but she looks down when she leaves.

  Once we’re alone, Humphrey scampers to the side of his cage nearest me. “SQUEAK-SQUEAK-SQUEAK? SQUEAK-SQUEAK-SQUEAK!”

  “I know,” I tell him. “I’m a little confused, too.”

  The Thing in the Woods

  The scariest creature is the one you’ve never seen.

  —Granny Greenleaf’s Wildlife Wisdom

  Moving from cabin to cabin each night is interesting, but it can be confusing. I have a new appreciation for what Humphrey’s life is like, spending each weekend with a different family. I’m used to quiet weekends, mostly in Room 26, except for an occasional visit to a house. But I’m ready to mix it up this summer!

  The second night, it’s my turn to stay with the Bobwhites.

  “If our cabin is going to be named after a bird, why can’t it be something cool, like an eagle or a falcon?” Garth complains as the campers gather in the cabin after the evening campfire.

  Ty, who is A.J.’s younger brother, says, “Who is Bob White anyway?”

  “Don’t you know anything?” Noah asks. I’m afraid he’s not going to be popular if he keeps talking like that.

  “I know plenty,” Ty mutters as Noah continues.

  “A bobwhite is a quail that makes a strange sound,” he says. “People think it sounds like ‘Bob White.’ Like this.”

  Noah clears his throat before imitating the bird. “Bob-white! Bob-white! Hear how my voice goes up with the second part?”

  Some of the other boys try it. “Bob-white! Bob-white!”

  Then they burst out laughing.

  “That is pretty cool,” a boy called Sam replies. “That could be our cabin’s special call.”

  They stop laughing when suddenly a different bird in the woods calls out, “Whoo! Whoo!”

  Of course, everybody knows what that is.

  I shiver as I remember how owls love to hunt mice at night. And mice are a lot like—I hate to say it—hamsters. I hop
e Humphrey doesn’t jiggle open his lock tonight!

  “That’s nothing compared to the sound the Howler makes,” Garth says. “Hap Holloway said it’s blood-curling.”

  What? Blood that curls? A Howler? I have no idea what he’s talking about.

  “Owoooo,” the boys all howl.

  “I’d sure like to win the Clash of the Cabins so we can go to Haunted Hollow and see the Howler for ourselves,” Sam says. “It sounds like something from a scary movie.”

  “Yeah,” Garth agrees. “A ferocious beast covered with fur, with huge sharp fangs, big feet and a bad smell. Oh, and a loud voice!”

  “Owoooo,” he and Sam repeat.

  Ty looks worried. “I’m not sure I want to see him.”

  “Don’t worry. The camp wouldn’t let anything bad happen to us,” Sam tells him. “Our parents would be upset.”

  I’m not sure that makes Ty feel better. Maybe I don’t, either.

  I heard part of what Hap Holloway said about the Clash of the Cabins. The campers in each cabin will compete against the other campers in different events—everything from softball, volleyball, swimming and canoeing to trail marking and knot tying. The prize for the winning group is a nighttime visit to a spot called Haunted Hollow, where that scary Howler creature lives.

  “I want to win,” Garth says. “But I’m not sure we can. A.J. is good at everything, so the Blue Jays will probably win.” He should know. A.J. is his best friend.

  “Yeah, but Sam is a good athlete, too,” Ty reminds him.

  “We have plenty of guys who are good at things,” Sam says. “If we all give it our best, we have a good chance of seeing the Howler.”

  “Guys, there’s no such thing as a Howler,” Noah says. “I’ve read about every kind of creature on earth, and I never heard of a Howler.”

  Ty looks worried. “But there still could be one.”

  My mind races. I know a lot of creatures in the wild, and some of them howl. Wolves. Coyotes. Red-tailed hawks. Some owls and foxes.

  They are all chilling, but would they make my blood curl?

  “I’ll bet the Howler is like those scary creatures that you read about,” Garth says. “Like the abdominal snowman.”