Tastes Like Chicken

Pansy Parkinson joined my classroom terrarium late last night. She is a yellowish-brown Fire Felly Toad. She makes a well-rounded and hopefully final addition to our Harry Potter world. Five Slyerthins, two Gryffindors, and one Hufflepuff.
Upon purchasing Pansy from the Harry Potter Amphibian Superstore (AKA PetSmart), I filled out the normal papers when taking home a small animal. I had to fill them out for the other Fire-Bellied Toads as well. I thought they were simply letting me know their twelve day replace or refund policy. I’d always just initialed, signed, and dated before. You know, I’m just too busy to read through all the papers I sign…
This sales person was a little more in depth as he rambled his way through the papers I was signing. He was chattering so fast and I was so fixated on not confusing Pansy with another of the toads that I nearly didn’t catch his words.
“Really, by signing it, you’re just agreeing that you won’t eat it.”
“What?”
“That you won’t eat the frog.”
I nearly corrected him that she isn’t a frog, she’s a Fire Belly Toad, but I let that go. “I think I can handle that.”
“Well, we’ve had other people eat the frogs.”
“Really? Huh…”
He fished in the tank, grabbing the wrong toad. I corrected him and he started again, chasing down the elusive Pansy Parkinson.
When he was ready to begin catching the crickets I was purchasing, I decided to ask the question that had been playing in the back of my mind. You know how I am about conspiracy theories and intrusive laws and such. Was there someone who spied on Fire Belly Toad (Frog, apparently) owners?
“So, how do you know that they ate the toads?” I wondered if he was going to correct my non-use of the word frog. He didn’t.
“Oh, the guy ate them and then got sick. He sued us.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. Now we have to tell people not to eat their pets.”
“Huh.”