Chapter Fifteen

"Can I keep the dog?" Bob said it with clarity and most importantly only once. I can only surmise that he expected the answer to be no and that allowed him to suddenly join the world of the normal, if there is such a thing, long enough to attain the appearance of normality for the time it took to speak the words.

Russell, Louis, and Louis all made eye contact with me, pleading for a right answer to come from my direction. I pleaded right back. There was a period of silence that was awkward in nature. Someone in the group needed to know that I was surrounded by the dead pet society. How could I be expected to formulate a rational response while every dead anole chameleon I ever owned was crawling up my legs? How could I possibly explain to the innocent Bob that I was in the need of a large bottle of liquor? Could Bob ever take care of a puppy? A tennis shoe would die if it were Bob's responsibility. I said the only thing that would diffuse the situation. The only thing that I could possibly say. 'Bob, what do you say I keep the puppy, and you can come play with it whenever you want to?"

"Hoowayy!" Bob cried, his speech impediment came back without suffering any mal-effects. "I can pway wif the puppy! Hoowayy!" his face went blank. "Wha is hid name, Marty? Wha is hid name?"

"I have no idea." I scratched my bandage and looked at all the other pets in the room.

"You've named your pets alphabetically in the past Dad." said Louis my son. "Your last dog was named Mabel."

"Mabel?" As the named left my mouth, a large black Labrador retriever bounded into the room and sat, wagging her tail at my feet. "Well, that leaves us with O, doesn't it." I tried to say calmly.

"How about Oprah?" added the Louis with one arm.

"The dog is a MALE!" Russell resonated.

"And?" replied Louis

"The dog is not a female!" Russell said.

"So?" Louis replied with a blank stare.

Louis my son laughed.

"Opaaaa!" Bob repeated with glee. "Opaaa!"

"Oprah it is then," I found the name somehow endearing. There was nothing about the dog that would make the name offensive to anyone. Had I named Mabel after a black, female, talk show host, there may have been some racial and feminist problems, but seeing as how the puppy was a tri-colored mongrel then the name would work perfectly. "Come here Oprah." I said, kneeling and holding my hands open. Oprah broke free of Russell and came leaping and hopping into my arms. He licked my face and barked as I stroked his head. All of my other dogs surrounded us and sat, jealously waiting for their turns. The cats all disappeared, the rodents scurried off to safety, and the reptiles continued doing what they were doing.

"I love you Marty." Said Doug the mynah bird. "

"Let's get together tonight, all of us, I have something we need to discuss." I told the group.

"You throwing us out Dad?" Louis said with a grin.

"Of course I am, but I especially need to talk to you later, Louis. Now,everybody get out of here, I need some time alone right now." I held the door open and the gang marched out single file. Louis patted me on the back, and then the puppy with his one existent hand.

About one minute after I closed the door and I heard Russell's SUV start up and drive away, I heard Bob howl. "I saw yoo buddox!"

"Lisa?" I asked myself. I opened the door to find her walking towards me. As she neared I realized that up to this point I have never seen her when I was standing on my feet. My head began to tilt back as she approached. She was about the length of my hand taller than me. She stooped down to give me a kiss. I could tell she had been in this position before.

"Marty, is there anyway to get Bob to stop saying that?" she spoke with consternation. "It's pissing me off."

"There's only one way to make him forget, and you don't wanna do it." I answered using a serious tone. "He just stopped talking about how cold the Doctor's forceps felt on his forehead the day he was born."