Wildlife According to Og the Frog by Betty G. Birney

Author:Betty G. Birney [Birney, Betty G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2020-05-19T00:00:00+00:00

I’m going back to the Robins’ Nest again tonight, and I have mixed feelings.

I’m hoppy to have a chance to find out if Miranda’s mom is letting her try horseback riding and if Gail has cheered up. But I’m worried that any minute, Lindsey will grab me and give me a squeeze. Ewww!

Ms. Mac delivers me to the cabin before dinner. During that time of day, the campers rest a little and write letters. Of course, Gail has been writing letters nonstop since she arrived at Camp Happy Hollow!

I keep a close eye on her today, and right away, I notice her take out that sticker and look at it, before quickly stuffing it back in her pocket.

Do I see a hint of a smile on her face?

The girls all sit on their beds with paper and pens in hand.

“Maybe I’ll write to Og,” Lindsey says.

“Why?” Kayla asks. “He’s right here.”

Lindsey giggles. “I’ll write him a love letter.”

Kayla rolls her eyes. “Lindsey, he’s a frog.”

“I know,” Lindsey says. “But he’s so cute. Maybe I’ll write my parents and see if they’d let me bring him home when camp is over.”

Miranda objects. “He’s our class pet. You can’t take him!”

“But you have Humphrey, too. Not fair!” Lindsey says. “But okay, I won’t write about taking Og home.”

That’s a huge relief to me!

Miranda brings her paper and pen over to my table. “Mind if I sit here, Og?” she asks.

“Please do!” I answer. After all, if Miranda sits next to me, maybe Lindsey won’t pick me up and give me a hug.

Miranda thinks and writes. She writes and stops to think. She crumples up her letter into a little ball.

“Oh, Og,” she says. “I write the same thing every day. I tell Mom I love camp. I tell her it’s fun and safe. I tell her how great the counselors are. And I tell her it would sure be fun to try riding a nice, tame horse. I even told her about Golden, who the youngest campers get to ride, but nothing ever changes.”

“I know!” I tell her. “I’m so sorry!”

Miranda takes out another piece of paper and stares at it. “She means well, Og. She loves me and wants the best for me,” she says. “But you’d let me ride a horse, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course!” I boing.

Personally, there’s no way I’d ever ride a horse, but then . . . frogs never do.

“Dear Mom,” Miranda says as she writes. “I miss you, but I love camp more every day! I’ve made so many new friends.”

“BOING!” I tell her. “That’s a good start.”

“I know you don’t want me to go horseback riding, but everybody is having fun on their rides . . . except me.”

Hmmm. I don’t think her mom will like that.

“BOING-BOING! BOING-BOING!” I say, splashing around in the water.

Miranda pulls her paper back. “Og! You’re getting my letter wet.”

“Sorry.” I use my softest boing. “It’s just a bit boring!”

Miranda stares hard at my tank. “I guess it sounds a little boring.

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