Ferdinand the Frog

Once upon a time, there was a frog named Ferdinand. He was really quite old and really quite bald! Although you must promise not to tell anyone. You see, it was a secret.

Ferdinand was bald. Ferdinand was a frog. But none of the towns folk new this. You see, Ferdinand had a wig. It was a large, hairy, muncled* kind of wig. Like something your mother would use to clean the kitchen floor with.

Ferdinand would wear his wig every day and instead of hopping, he would crawl.

Now, he lived at his local pub where he was gainfully employed as a footstool. He would crawl from patron to patron offering his back as a safe haven for wary feet.

Everyone assumed that Ferdinand was some sort of terrier. You know the ones that you would like to drop kick. They offered him doggy treats, bones, patted him and called him Rover.

Overall, it was not a bad life for a frog but he always felt like something was missing... that there was a hole inside of him. A dog shaped hole...

Ferdinand was also dyslexic.

One day, he decided to venture out. To seek the thing that would fill this dog shaped hole. He travelled through villages, towns, boroughs, burgs, cities, centres, ports and plazas. But no one could help him...

Until one day, he met her. Petunia. She was beautiful. She was elegant. She was well spoken and well bred. She was a standard poodle.

She was also not so bright... she too had a hole... she knew it to be a frog shaped hole.

She ate Ferdinand.

*muncled: gnarly, like something you would fine at the back of the broom closet after the cat had been shut in there for a week…