Foley's Tails From Rainbow Bridge: Pocket and the Frog Prince

I love picnics. I didn’t partake on the mortal side. My  Mom is not one to sit outside, having an aversion to dirt. But, my first week here, to cheer me up, Tommy Tunes took me for a picnic, on the banks of the River of Life. It was the first time I had felt at peace as I rested on the green grass. I finally understood what rest in peace meant.

I have gone on picnics with many of my angel friends but today it would be just Pocket and I. Sometimes you have to be kind to your smallest sibling (and she has a tiny appetite and there are more Watercress and Bacon sandwiches for me.)

We found a lovely spot and put our blanket down. We sat, and I opened the basket, handed Pocket a sandwich, put my one on the grass while I struggled to open up my cherry preserves, and, when I finally unscrewed the top I noticed my sandwich was gone. I was going to blame Pocket but then I saw a frog near the river bank eating my sandwich.

“Hey!” I yelled and tossed a bully stick stub toward him. (If you know what a bully stick is you will understand what an insult that was.) “Give me back my sandwich,” I barked.

“Pardon me,” the frog said with a well-practiced French accent. “I have been starving since an evil witch changed me from my princely form into a frog body. If you could give me a kiss I will be returned to my original human figure, and I will make you into my princess.”

The old prince in a frog suit who will make you into a princess trick was the number one cause of dogs being separated from sandwiches with the crust cut off. I was going to tell him to give me back my sandwich or I would make a snack out of his legs when Pocket excitedly stood and announced that she would be a princess.

Then she kissed the little green freak square on the lips.

And nothing happened. 

I was about to tell my sister that she had been fooled when a hundred frogs appeared on lily pads and announced that their king was back. Then the frogs carried the prince and the Pocket to a giant lily pad where she was about to be crowned as the Frog Queen.

I yelled at Pocket to stop but she was in her glory, being recognized as royalty. I had to get in line to greet Princess Pocket and the Frog Prince. When I came to her I whispered that she didn’t want to live the rest of her life on a lily pad but she was caught up in being a princess and not thinking about eating fly stew every day.

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When the ceremony ended I was prepared to go home when Pocket joined me. I asked her why she wasn’t staying and she explained that she was one of 1,000 frog princesses and the queen was immortal so she would probably never have to rule of the frogs. “I think you should address me as Princess Pocket,” she said.

I told her I would do it for the rest of the night.

Then she told me I also had to pay a dowry of 10,000 bugs to the Prince’s family.

Damn frogs.

They are always working an angle.