Teemeyer had arrived at the grassy stream in Dutton that flowed among willows and was full of small green frogs. He liked frogs. As he swallowed one and enjoyed the delicious feeling of it sliding down his long throat, he noticed something out of his left eye. A dog had come out from behind a farm house and disappeared into a hole under the corn crib at Drawbridge’s farm. It was a scrawny dog of a nondescript color. Teemeyer took notice of this and went on catching and swallowing frogs.