He arrived in the mail one bright and sunny December afternoon: a tiny tadpole swimming in a bag of water. He and his accoutrements came in a box marked "Grow a Frog."

It was my son's birthday, and his grandparents had decided this would be the perfect gift for a 6-year-old. He lived in his little tank on Michael's bookshelf, swimming and eating his daily food pellets. He eventually morphed into a frog, and we moved him to a slightly larger tank so he had more room to swim around.

By now, in addition to his legs, he had acquired a name -- Mike, named after his caretaker. (I guess Michael decided if the name was good enough for him, it was good enough for his pet.)

Gender-wise, it was an appropriate name, as we soon discovered he was indeed a "he." His nightly trilling serenaded Michael to sleep every night; however, it proved futile in the love department.

Over the years, he continued to grow. We tried to move him into a bigger tank, but he seemed shell-shocked, so we put him back in his previous one. Swimming, eating, fruitlessly croaking and coming up for an occasional breath of air, Mike moved through the years.

As kids are wont to do, Michael soon tired of having to periodically clean the algae from the tank and decided to let his little sister take on the task of caring for Mike. She was thrilled and soon learned to fall asleep to his nightly song.

One day, I found Mike floating at the top of the tank and prepared to break the news to my daughter. With tears running down her face, Kelley carried the tank downstairs to prepare him for burial. We used a net to lift him out of the water and were shocked to see him swim away -- he lives! Back upstairs, next to Kelley's bed, Mike lived on.

During family vacations, Mike would get a change of scenery while in the care of neighborhood children who fed him his nightly meal (21/2 food sticks, broken in half). The parents grew worried over the years that he would expire on their watch.

When guests would come to stay and sleep in Kelley's room, Mike would be relegated to the bathroom since most people are not accustomed to being lulled to sleep by a love-hungry amphibian. He never complained; he just kept on swimming, eating and breathing.

By now, you probably think Mike has departed his tank for the watery world beyond, but I am happy to report that he continues to live on.

In case you were wondering, Michael graduated from college this past May and Kelley will be leaving for college in less than two years. You do the math -- next month Mike will be 17 years old!

My husband and I are in training to fall asleep to Mike's song. After all, we don't want him to be lonely at night.

I just hope he doesn't outlive us.

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