As days passed, Damon felt, much to his surprise, more and more comfortable being a frog. How was this possible? Had this witch cast a spell on him to alter his mind? Was it possible? Probably... How to explain otherwise that he started think a frog's existence, let alone in a terrarium he had not been out of... enjoyable and quite nice? The terrarium was large and as great as a five-star hotel. After all, being so small, it meant that this large terrarium was as big as a penthouse and it provided everything Damon's new amphibious body required and loved. His new instincts pushed him to waddle and splash in the pond. And who knew splashing could be as great as scrolling on the net? Same thing for basking under the lamp., warming his cold blood until he just dived back into the cool water for while. And start again after a few laps and bounces. Wading was so much fun! Same thing with wallowing in slime and mud. Damon could feel his skin gorge up the humidity and appreciate the wonderful moisture. Warm. Moist. Those summed up this environment that made him feel so great that forgetting he had had other desires, as simple or more complex ones, was incredibly easy. Wood lice, worms, flies and other insects dispensed by the witch were as delicious as the beer, sodas, cookies, burgers, pizzas, fried chicken and other junk food that he had craved before. As for worries such as paying rent, finding a job and his purpose in life, well... When he remembered those, it felt good to have left them behind for a while. Thinking about these again... It made him feel bad and regret when he just happily croaked amidst the plants and weeds. It merely pushed him to sink back into his carefree mindset. As a frog, a pet frog, he didn't have to worry about these stupid worries that were typically human. And the witch took care of him. Fed him. Kept him wet and warm. He croaked happily when she looked at him to show his gratitude. And forgetting how eating insects and bugs and worms felt disgusting. They were crunchy and melted on his long tongue which he shot out to eat. And which never ceased to amuse him.
As for the witch, she was quite happy with herself. Her new pet was getting used to his new condition wonderfully well. Soon she could train him to be at her beck and call. Oh, he'll be quite the attraction at the next witch meeting!