We had a frog named Willoughby. Nobody really “had” Willoughby. He chose to visit when he wasn’t doing anything else. We (Reenie, Debbie and I) chose to believe that he was ours. He lived, we thought, under the boat dock at the summer camp we shared on Silver Lake in Clinton Corners, NY.
He was a tremendous Bull Frog with a deep “Gaaaarumph” that could be heard all the way up to the cabin and across the lake where we swam. It never occurred to us that there may be other, friendly yet unknown, bullfrogs making the same sound in different areas of the lake. The frog spawn that we saw around the lake was made by lady frogs; and, I think, we thought Willoughby was married to all of them.
He was ours! He was big and greenie black with lots of bumpy warts and a throat that would expand like the largest bubblegum bubble you ever blew. That part of his throat was yellow when it blew up. We wondered if one day it would pop.
Willoughby was ever present. We would see him whenever we took out the boat. We would see him when we brought the boat back. We would see him if we went to the dock to skip stones and he would always make that loud “Gaaaarumph” which we loved to hear.
At night he would sing us to sleep as we imagined all sorts of pictures on the ceiling of the cabin which was severely water stained. In the morning he was singing when we woke up. Willoughby was ever present and he was our special frog.
Every summer we would go to the cabin. We would run down the road to the boat dock to see if Willoughby was still there. There he was.
Years passed and every year our friend would great us. How reassuring to have him there always waiting for us. It was like knowing which Tree Ornaments went where on the Christmas Tree every year. We always knew where to find Willoughby.
Eventually we stopped using the cabin regularly; but on the rare occasion we went there, we would individually or collectively stroll down the road to the boat dock to see if Willoughby was still there. Years had gone by and we were always surprised when we saw him, reassured that all is right with the world-with our lives-with our families; because Willoughby was there and he certainly was a part of our childhood when the world was safe.
Our parents passed on about 15 years ago. Eventually I took a ride out to the old cabin, now owned by someone else. The boat dock was still there, no boat; I walked down to the dock just to see by chance if Willoughby was still there. I could hear him. I couldn’t see him but I knew he was very close. I waited. “Gaaaarumph Gaaaarumph ” He was there, though I never saw him that day; I knew that he was there especially for me as a sort of message. “I’ll always be here, he seemed to say.” “Your days as a child are still here and so are your Mom and Dad” Smart Soul that Willoughby!!!!!
“Gaaaarumph Gaaaarumph ”
