Summer According to Humphrey by Betty G. Birney Page A

you’re not meant to live inside. You should live outside, like me.”
    I didn’t agree with her, any more than I agreed with Noah.
    “By the way, who are you?” I asked, only because she’d asked me the same question earlier.
    “I’m Goldenrod,” she said in a friendlier voice. “I mean, that’s what everybody calls me.”
    “Nice name,” I said, and I meant it. “Isn’t it very dangerous to live outside? With owls and bats and Howlers?”
    Goldenrod looked puzzled. “Howlers? What are they?”
    “Oh,” I answered. “They’re horrible, terrible things. They’re . . . well, I’m not sure what they are. I’ve only heard about them. They go, ‘Owoooo!’”
    Goldenrod’s nose twitched as she thought about it. “I’ve never seen them or heard them. Owls are very scary, of course, but bats are nothing to worry about. Yes, there are dangers out here, but it’s better than a life in prison. Isn’t it?”
    “Prison?” I asked. “Who’s in prison?”
    “I’ve seen them carry you around in that prison,” she said.
    I couldn’t help chuckling. “That’s my cage! It protects me from dangerous things, like dogs and cats.”
    “What are they?” Goldenrod asked.
    “DANGEROUS-DANGEROUS-DANGEROUS creatures!” I said. “You’re lucky you’ve never met them.”
    “Goodness, I guess I am,” Goldenrod replied. “I’ve seen foxes, of course, and coyotes. But never dogs and cats.”
    Foxes and coyotes sounded every bit as dangerous as dogs and cats, but I didn’t say so.
    “Besides, I can get in and out of my cage whenever I want,” I explained. “I have a lock-that-doesn’t-lock.”
    Goldenrod tilted her head to one side. “Lock?”
    I could see it wasn’t going to be easy to explain the role of a pet to her. “Anyway, it’s not a prison. In fact, humans love me.”
    Goldenrod gasped. “Humans love ?”
    I gasped in return. “Of course! They love each other and they love their pets.”
    “Wow. I had no idea,” Goldenrod said. “I thought they just made noise and tore down trees and set fires.”
    “No,” I told her. “They like to feed animals and play games and burp and sing silly songs about Little Bunny Foo Foo.”
    Goldenrod’s eyes got wide. “Bunny Foo Foo? Does he live around here?”
    “No.” I chuckled. “Never mind.”
    Then I changed the subject. “Can you help me, Goldenrod?” I asked. “Could you close this lid and give me a push?”
    Luckily the ball had stopped with the lid on the side, right at Goldenrod’s level.
    “Yes, if that’s what you want,” she said. “It’s been interesting to meet you, Humphrey.” She reached up with her front paws and pushed the lid closed.
    “Oh, and I’ll never forget you, Goldenrod. We have a lot in common, you know,” I told her.
    “I won’t forget you, either, Humphrey,” she said. “Let me know if you ever decide to be wild.”
    And with that, she gave the ball a big push and I rolled back toward the Nature Center. I was impressed with her strength.
    “THANKS-THANKS-THANKS!” I squeaked to her.
    “Bye, Humphrey!” she squeaked back.
    I had to run as hard as I could to roll the ball to the bottom of the steps. As I caught my breath, I heard noise coming from the cabin. There seemed to be quite a commotion going on there.
    “Humphrey? Humphrey!! ” That was Ms. Mac’s voice, but I never heard her quite so excited before.
    “Maybe he rolled under the desk,” Katie said.
    “Or outside,” another voice suggested.
    There were footsteps as Ms. Mac and some of the kids ran out onto the porch.
    “I hope he didn’t roll out here.” Ms. Mac sounded worried.
    “Wait a second! I see him!” I recognized Simon’s voice.
    More footsteps and then Ms. Mac reached down and gently picked up my hamster ball.
    “Oh, Humphrey, you had us so worried,” she said softly. “I guess you had yourself a little adventure.”
    “You have no idea,” I squeaked weakly.
    Noah was out on the porch, too. Ms. Mac turned to