The next frog I cut open was in a class in Bio 11, seven years later. It was Valentine's Day. I was groupmates with Wegs Pedroso, Juanchi Pablo, and Ciara Alberto. I "obtained" nine frogs for the entire class--obtained being the operative word. That means I went inside the huge cage (at the back of Zoology Bldg.) where frogs were bred, took them by hand, and placed them inside a plastic bag.
Now I'm done with frogs but stuck with mice. But each dissection--or operation--I perform still gives me that thrill...that sick feeling that comes with killing an organism for the "advancement of science."
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A dialogue between two frogs:
“Hey, can I ask you something? Why do human children dissect us?”
“It’s part of their education. They cut open our bodies in school and write reports about their findings.”
“Huh. Well, I guess it could be worse, right? I mean, at least we’re not dying in vain.”
“How do you figure?”
“Well, our deaths are furthering the spread of knowledge. It’s a huge sacrifice we’re making, but at least some good comes out of it.”
What follows is really, really funny.
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