Deametrus was a bullfrog with an attitude. He stayed up all night making bullfrog noises. Every one in the swamp and the surrounding area knew Deametrus. Many female frogs called him ‘Dirty Deametrus’ or worse because he was quite the lech. Lech being short for lecherous, neither you nor I have all day.
Most any day of the week you could catch Deametrus on the beach in the roots of an old willow tree catching bugs and ‘checking out the chicks.’
At night he had two favorite spots, on a huge lily pad by the stream mouth, or on a pile of mud surrounded by rushes right in the middle of the swamp. He would sit all night, drinking rum and smoking fat cigars, picking up female frogs. I can’t tell the difference either. He could.
You’d think Deametrus went home alone a lot. Truth is he had progeny in every swamp, pond and stream northwest of Winnemucca. Some of them even spoke Canadian.
It just goes to show you, with bullfrogs or anyone else for that matter: attitude is everything.
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