I, too, got out of dissecting a frog in high school. Unlike Graham, however, I didn't think to contact my lawyer--I simply cut the class and took my D with a stiff upper lip. I'd love to say that my moral convictions wouldn't allow me to take a knife to a poor, innocent froggie--but let's face it: I just didn't want to see the Technicolor mess inside. I was, and am, squeamish--not saintly. Happily, this hasn't prevented me from participating fully in life, or from receiving an A in college animal biology. And, you know, I never have found myself in a situation which called for personal experience with frog innards. If it ever comes up--I'll fake it.