Counter Surfers Unlimited
Beauregard and the Bullfrog
"Okay, big guy, it's your turn for a walk," I said to Beauregard,
slipping on his collar and spritzing him with some fly spray. "Let's
go."
As soon as I opened the door, the sticky air hit us and the resident
squadron of deer flies started their attack. Fortified by a liberal
dousing of insect repellant, and wearing a brimmed hat, I started down
the driveway with Beauregard. Tail wagging and oblivious to the swarming
flies, he trotted happily in front of me. This is the best part of his
day--a romp through the cool green woods with all its wondrous smells
and creatures.
Even though it was not yet 8:00 in the morning, the thick air and warm
temperature weighed heavily on us as we made our way along the trail.
Our beginning brisk steps slowed. Beau panted as he walked along beside
me, and I could feel the sweat starting to trickle between my shoulder
blades.
As we approached the swamp, bullfrogs sang out, each one trying to outdo
the other. The big chocolate dog stopped, ears pricked, head to one
side, taking it all in.
"Those are bullfrogs, Beau," I explained. "They're signing for us to let
us know that this is their swamp."
He looked at me as I spoke to him and then turned back to the chorus in
the swamp, tail wagging and tongue hanging to one side. "Cool!" he
seemed to think.
Chuckling, I called him to continue on our walk.
"Whadda ya say, Beau--want to go for a swim in the pond to cool off?"
Leaving the froggy music behind us, we strolled to the pond. Down
through the field, following the trail the deer made on their way to the
water's edge. Rushing the last few feet toward the water, Beau
suddenly pulled up short. A loud splash told me why. I
reached the shore just in time to see a large, green bullfrog glide away
into the deep. Beauregard saw him too, and jumped into the pond
after him.
Now as adept in the water as labs are, they are no match for the diving
skills of frogs. After paddling around for a while, Beau returned
to me on the shore. As we stood there, from the depths of the pond
came that same green frog, up to the edge of the sand.
For a brief moment, Labrador and frog stood nose to nose. Then with a
croak, the frog was gone.
Beauregard stood on the shore, watching the water. Then he turned and
looked at me as if to say, "Way cool, Mom!"
"Yes, Beau, way cool--lets go home." And off we went.
By Kathy Cipriani
Used with permission - (c) Kathy Cipriani
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