The bird chirped happily at her and then pecked her nose, not like a peck, more like a kiss.
She giggled and it, too, sounded like a happy song.
Whoa!
I blinked.
That was when I knew.
I was dreaming I was in one of those animated movies.
Wow.
Cool! What an awesome dream!
She turned and the bird hopped up to her shoulder and somehow kept its place as she danced on her toes back to the bed with more grace than any human I’d ever seen. Then again, seeing as she was part of a dream, she could be as graceful as any character in an animated movie that my mind could make up.
She threw the side curtains aside and ordered merrily, “Get up, silly! We have to get ready! So much to do, so much to do! Tra la! Tra la, la, la, la! Tra, la, la, la, la!”
She emitted the tra la’s in her gorgeous voice while whirling toward the door and the bird fluttered off her shoulder onto the bed as she did so. Then it hopped to me, looked in my eyes and chirped.
God, I swear I knew that the bird was saying, “Heya.”
Holy crap.
“Heya,” I whispered to the bird.
That was when I could swear the bird’s eyes lit up with a smile.
Holy crap!
“Up, Cora, you can’t be lazy today! I stayed with you to make certain you got up and got ready in plenty of time. As my matron of honor, you have to be nearly as beautiful as me!” she called from the door then threw her shining, golden blonde mane back and laughed a sing-song laugh before she tipped her head back down and smiled a stunning smile at me. “Not that that will be hard, my exquisite sister.”
She clapped her hands with delight again and exited the door, closing it behind her.
I stared at the door. Then I looked back down at the bird who was still looking up at me.
“This is a way cool dream,” I told the bird and it tipped its head to the side like my words were confusing.
Then it took two hops so it was sitting on my thigh.
Awesome!
Then it said, “Chirp chirp,” which I took to mean, “You aren’t dreaming.”
“I am so totally dreaming,” I told the bird.
The bird replied, “Chirp, chirp, chirpity, chirp,” which came to me as chirps but I knew meant, “No, really, this isn’t a dream, Cora.”
“It’s a dream, bird, I know this first off because people don’t talk to birds or, at least, know what they’re saying. Unless, of course, they’re bonkers,” I returned.
The bird tilted its head again and then chirped, “Chirp, chirp, chirp, chirp,” (with a bunch more chirps) which meant, “Are you ill? Of course people talk to birds. And bunnies. And deer. And mice. And my name is Agglethorpe. You and everyone call me Aggie.”
“There it is,” I told the bird. “Your name is Agglethorpe. That’s a perfectly ludicrous name that only could be given to a bird in a dream or a Disney movie.”
That was when the bird hopped forward and pecked my hand, which kind of hurt, and then looked up at me and chirped what I took to mean, “My name isn’t ludicrous! I know this because you gave it to me!”
But I was staring at my hand where the bird, or Aggie, had pecked.