dying frog

There is a frog caught in the wall of my classroom. He ribbetts really loud. So loud that you think he’s in the room, but he’s not. He’s in the wall. Slowly dying. His ribbetts become more plaintive as the days go by. I wish I could get him out of there. I’d put him on a lily pad somewhere. But to do that I would have to knock a hole into the wall, and then I would probably get in trouble. I’m not willing to put my job on the line for one little frog. My mentor teacher says that it happens every year. Turns out frogs don’t know how to look after themselves properly. Stupid frogs.