Norman's Neighborhood

Twenty-five

"Morning, Dena!" Gail Pfaff waved a chunk of pastry cheerfully, dropping crumbs in her lap. "Oops! Shouldn't have done that," she laughed, then sobered as Dena answered less enthusiastically.
"Good morning, Gail." She approached the chubby receptionist's cluttered desk and held up one of Kathy's "Missing Dog" posters. Gail's eyes widened.
"Norman? What happened?"

As Dena told the story, Gail popped the last piece of her unsuitable - to Dena's mind - breakfast into her mouth and shifted her chair around the desk to the small trash can. She stood up, brushed the errant fragments into the receptacle, and plopped heavily back into the chair. The impact released the valve of the pneumatic cylinder, causing the chair to descend slowly with a "Pfff..."

Gail's brown eyes widened as she slowly sank an inch or two, then she blew out a breath of her own air in an unconscious mimicking of the chair.
"Pfff! I guess I need to lose a few pounds," she exclaimed regretfully. "Anyway - need some tape?" She held the dispenser up to Dena and smiled reassuringly. "I'm sure you'll find him soon."

The door opened with a soft swish, and the motion sensor sounded, "Bing-bonggg..." A small Asian woman entered, carrying a squirming dachshund.
"Hansel! Behave!" she ordered sternly, and stepped up to the desk. The dog complied, showing the whites of his eyes in subjection to her no-nonsense tone. Gail smiled.
"Good morning, Rosalinda." She glanced at the computer monitor. "Hansel here for shots today?"
"Yes, and he has eczema. My husband forgot to use the cream regularly while I was visiting home," she explained, shaking her head slightly while rolling her eyes.

Dena, who was familiar with Hansel and his owners, greeted Rosalinda warmly as she breathed a mental sigh of relief that Wilford Smythe-Bonynge hadn't come along on this visit. Somehow, the man's very presence seemed to incline Hansel to misbehave.
"Hello, you little scoundrel!" Dena addressed the small dog. "I'll go tell Dr. Tom you're here. It should be just a few minutes."

Rosalinda took a seat in the waiting room. Sliding the loop of his leash over her arm, she set Hansel at her feet and instructed him to lay down. Instead, he went to the farthest extent of the leash and strained forward.
"Hansel," the petite woman warned, tugging the leash, "you'd better mind me. Come!" Reluctantly, the dachshund plodded back to her feet and sat down with a grunt.

**********

Paul called Dr. Zabowski's office and got a recorded message. Sighing, he turned to the big dog and reported, "They're closed all week. We'll have to find a different vet for you." The animal cocked his fuzzy head inquiringly.
"It's OK, buddy, we'll find someone," Paul assured him, tapping on his phone. "I know there's one just inside the city limits, but I don't know the name... Oh, here it is."

Perry helped Paul get the dog into Ferdinand's travel crate, which they secured in the bed of the pickup with a bungee cord, and they were on their way to Neuberger's Veterinary Clinic.
"You're in luck," the receptionist had told Paul. "The vet tech is available at 9:30."