A Tribute

I remember yanking on his chain, his 100 and something out-of-shape body clenched to the grass in our front yard.
'Jimbo, you love to run so much, it is your job to get Norman running'.
For a dog that would do anything to take a walk around our block I was both disappointed and relieved that on 2 day of 'Norman's new life' he started an exercise program that lasted for years: sprint out the door, dive-bomb onto our lawn and play dead until I gave up (and I gave up every time). I think Norman knew I was trying to change his habits, and I think that is why he rebelled against me. One afternoon, during one of his sit-in protests on the front lawn, me yanking Norman's chain pleading that he does one lap with me, mom pulls into the driveway. The 100 and something lug performs a 360 jump/back flip, dodges me and runs to the side of mom's car waiting for her... I think it was then that I realized that my lazy brother, Norman, wasn't lazy at all, just dedicated to one thing and one thing only.
Mom is out the door for work at 7am, Norman starts his day of pacing and waiting for 415 when she appears again. Only to then spend time with her until he relaxed and then would let himself fall asleep waking up every so often to make sure everyone was ok. He would have done anything for her... I actually remember a few times Norman watching my mom while talking trying to understand exactly what she was saying and becoming frustrated because he couldn't.
Norman saw my high school graduation, my college graduation and was a guest of honor at my Peace Corps going away party. I never thought it would be possible that I would come home from El Salvador and not see him at the door waiting to blow past me to greet my mom first and then come and give me a hug. I am glad he is not suffering anymore but getting the phone call that he had left us was too much.
I always use to complain that my nickname was Jimbo and Norman was the name of a tenured English professor at a community college... but that is OK, I think in many ways he was smarter than me. He always listened, even though he didn't always understand; he was always there, even though I didn't always acknowledge him; and he always forgave because I think he understood that that was all that ever really mattered. Pacing and waiting, falling asleep and waking up again just to make sure that everyone was ok.