frog who refused to die

In seventh grade I should have known better Than to sign up for dissecting in this kind of weather It was stormy and dark, the sky was gloom and doom. In the lab, I fished my frog out of his box-like tom. I poked him with my knife to make a little slice. His eyes popped open, which was not incredibly nice. He stuck out his tongue and ran around the table. Whose frog is that? Asked the teacher, named Mable. The chase was on. He was quicker than light. I grabbed him again and tried to hold on tight. I ended up letting him go, that Halloween day. Frog who refused to die on a day that was gray.