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Before I have a chance to respond, Jerry hops in his car and peels out tossing up a cloud of dust.
Tess fans her hand in front of her face. “Does this happen often?”
“No. Most people drop their pet off after hours in a box on the front step.”
She looks at the cage hidden under a white blanket. “Well, let’s find out what’s in there.”
I pick up the cage and carry it into Animal Haven.
Tess lifts the hem of the blanket over the top of the cage, and we come face to face with the most gorgeous bird I have ever seen.
“It’s a cockatoo,” I breathe, leaning down to get a better look.
The bird is all white with a black beak, and obviously doesn’t like my close proximity because he squawks, erects the lemon colored crest on top of his head, and fluffs his feathers.
“I don’t think he likes us,” Tess says.
“He’s just scared.”
“What do we do with him? I’ve never cared for a bird.”
“I’m not entirely sure. I’ll call the vet to see if he can stop by and check the bird out. Maybe he can give us some tips.”
“It sounds like you’ve got a solid plan. Is there anything you need me to do for you, or should I get back to what I was doing?”
“I’m good.”
Tess heads out back to finish up whatever she was doing. I grab the bag Jerry dropped off and pull out a container of food, two toys, and a picture of an old man who looks nothing like Jerry.
“Well, I don’t know your name, but I know what your owner looked like,” I mumble, staring into the now empty bag.
“Dave,” he says.
The loud, screeching voice startles me. With a hand to my chest, I jump back and look at the bird. “You can talk?”
“Dave,” he repeats.
“Is that your name?”
“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” His words are mumbled because, well, he’s a bird, but I can still make out what he’s saying.
“What else do you know? How old are you Dave?”
“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”
“Yes, I know that. How old are you?” I ask again.
“Shut up!” he yells.
“Excuse me?” Hands on my hips, I glare at Dave. He tilts his head to the side, starts laughing, and I’ll be damned if it isn’t the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
“Shut up, Dave,” he yells, bouncing on his perch in the cage. “Go to sleep, Dave.”
“You want to take a nap? Now we’re getting somewhere.” I lower the blanket over the cage. “There.”
“It’s dark in here.”
I peek under the blanket. “It’s supposed to be dark, you’re taking a nap.”
