Norman's Neighborhood

Eight

Norman was dreaming... He ran across the vacant lot, creating his own wind as he sped after the ball David had thrown. The air movement felt good, ruffling his thick fur. Logan caught the ball just before Norman arrived, then threw it back toward his brother. The big dog made a quick turn and galloped swiftly after it; David let it whiz by so his canine teammate could retrieve it.

Happily bounding up to David, Norman let go of the saliva-coated tennis ball, which lodged in a depression between some clumps of weeds. Ignoring the ball, David knelt down and patted the dog's wiry coat, then started gently fingering Norman's left ear. Logan called out something indistinct, and the scene changed. David was still playing with Norman's ear, but they were in a house... It didn't look quite right, but that was okay - because David was there. And then he wasn't.

"Bee-bee-bee..."
Some kind of alarm seemed to be going off in very close proximity to Norman's ear, and at the same time something was tickling his ear. He slowly opened his eyes, lifting his square head slightly off the floor.
"Woo-weee!" squealed the something, flapping and jumping backward into Norman's field of vision.

"Ah-ah-ah, Jester, come here!" commanded Evelyn, waking from a nap in her armchair. She bent down and held one finger out like a perch; the multi-colored bird bounced across the floor as if there were springs in its legs, and climbed up on Evelyn's finger.

Norman cocked his head and drew his bushy eyebrows together in puzzlement. He was familiar with the drab browns of birds that chirped in his yard; the shiny black crows that congregated noisily to drop walnuts in the street; and the insanely shrieking white and gray gulls wheeling around shopping centers - but he had never seen a bird so colorful as this one! Jester looked like brilliant patchwork; the parrot's back and wings were emerald green, set off by orangey-yellow flanks, white chest, and a head that was yellow with a black cap.

"She likes you, Normandy," Millie informed the dog. She had been napping in her own armchair, with an enormous fluffy cat perched on the chair's back. The silvery cat stared curiously at Norman with round green eyes, not seeming at all perturbed to find a large gray dog in the middle of the floor.
"Louie," Millie addressed the cat, putting her hand behind her head to caress the cat's ruff, "we have company. We're giving Normandy shelter from the storm."

Millie knew that Louie, a Maine Coon cat, was very tolerant of other animals. (Jester often would settle on her feline friend's back and groom his somewhat long fur by running her beak through it as Louie sat contentedly, paws tucked in and eyes squinted.) Now, as if the cat understood Millie's introduction, he jumped gracefully down to the rug and tiptoed over to assess the visitor.

Norman, watching Louie approach, was warily receptive; his tail slowly whumped against the floor as he heaved the front part of his body up into a half-sitting position. The two animals touched noses hesitantly, then amicably sniffed each other. Louie rubbed his head against Norman's foreleg, purring loudly.

"Woo-wee! Bee-bee-bee...Tch-tch-tch..." Jester stood on the arm of Evelyn's chair and bounced in place. She wanted in on the action. Millie picked up a neatly folded handkerchief from the lamp table and tossed it toward the other chair, sending it fluttering to the floor. The energetic bird hopped down, took a corner of the cloth in her black beak, toppled over onto the cloth, and began to roll across the floor until she was swaddled in the handkerchief.

Millie and Evelyn laughed delightedly over the clownish bird's antics. Jester, typical of caiques, was more acrobat than linguist. She had a small repertoire of sound effects, most of which she had just performed, but her athletic prowess was extraordinary. Unrolling herself from the handkerchief, she sprang to her feet and bounced toward the other two animals on her invisible pogo stick.

Norman was fascinated. He watched every move of the brilliant performer as she danced across the rug. She climbed up his side, returning to her earlier spot on the top of his head, and again took his ear gently in her beak. The sensation jogged Norman's memory in an odd way; he recalled his dream - the part where David was stroking his ear. He needed to be on his way back home!

**********

The power went off as Dena was rubbing her dripping hair with a towel. After changing into dry clothing, she called her older son to let him know that Norman was missing - without mentioning who had left the door open.

"We all went out looking for him, but we got hit by a surprise thunderstorm and had to run home; it was a real lulu! It just now stopped raining, and the sun is out."
"Poor guy," David responded. "Wonder why he left. I hope he found a dry place to wait it out! Do you think Kathy got any posters up before the rain hit?"
"I know she did. She texted. She was at Riese's with the kids when the power went out, and they put up several before they went there. I'd better get off the phone, sweetie - I don't want to run my battery down too much when I can't charge it."
"All right. Let me know when you can, if Norman comes home or you hear anything."

David didn't express his feelings much during the call - he was more inclined to quiet thoughtfulness than was his happy-go-lucky brother - but his mother sensed his unspoken concern about their missing dog. He was very attached to Norman, who had joined the family at just nine weeks old. As Dena sat down on the edge of the bed to put on a dry pair of socks, her mind turned back to the frightening episode of David's illness...

David had gone on a trip with the high school band, and arrived back home complaining of headache and stiff neck. When Dena took his temperature, it was alarmingly elevated. They rushed him immediately to the hospital, where he was diagnosed with bacterial meningitis.

A week later, they brought him back home. Fortunately, there was no permanent damage - but recuperation was a slow process. After about two weeks, he became a little discouraged and frustrated that his recovery wasn't faster.
"Maybe this is a good time for a new puppy," Dena had suggested to Mike. He agreed, but they decided not to mention it to the boys yet.

The next day Marie, a client of the veterinary clinic, came in and asked to put up a flyer advertising a litter of giant schnauzer puppies for sale. There were ten of them, eight weeks old and almost ready to go to new homes.

Dena told her that their elderly basset hound, Sadie, had recently died and they were considering getting a puppy to help their son recuperate from his recent illness.

When the two of them went to see the litter, the smallest one - a little pepper and salt male - toddled over to Mike with his tail wagging furiously. Mike looked at Dena, wordlessly picking up the squirming pup. She smiled.
"Looks like it's this boy," she told Marie.
"He's yours. I want to give him to your family. You need him."