It was nearly lunchtime at the rescue home, and little Linda was already restless. Her tummy had been rumbling for a while, but the caretaker was still preparing her bottle. The sweet smell of milk filled the air, and that only made Linda’s impatience grow stronger.
At first, she whined softly — tiny “ee-ee” sounds that usually got her attention right away. But when the milk didn’t come fast enough, her hunger turned into full-blown frustration. Her little face scrunched up, her tail twitched, and suddenly, Linda began jumping!
Boing! Boing! Boing! She hopped up and down just like a tiny frog, her arms flailing, mouth open in loud squeaks that filled the room. “Eee! Eee! EEEE!” she screamed, her voice sharp and dramatic. It was her way of saying, “I’m starving! Hurry up!”
The caretaker turned around, half-laughing, half-sympathetic. “Alright, alright, my hungry girl! The milk’s almost ready!” But Linda was far too impatient to wait. She jumped again — higher this time — her little feet slipping on the floor as she kept squealing for attention.
Finally, the warm bottle was brought to her. The instant it touched her tiny hands, Linda’s tantrum stopped as if someone flipped a switch. She grabbed it tightly and drank greedily, her body relaxing with each sip.
When she finished, she looked up with a satisfied little grin — milk dripping down her chin, her earlier anger completely forgotten.
The caretaker chuckled and wiped her face gently. “See, my frog baby? No need to shout next time.”
Linda blinked, yawned, and cuddled into her blanket, her belly round and full. Within minutes, she was fast asleep — dreaming, perhaps, of bananas, milk, and her next funny frog jump.
