Wrinkles: The Antics Of A Psychic Dog And A Yuppy Puppy
Howdy! My name is Winkie, short for Wrinkles I’m a half Shar-Pei and half Bassett Hound and I’m psychic too. Within these pages I’ll take you through some of the events in my life. Yes, I am a real dog and these events did happen, well mostly. You’ll find out I don’t like to take a bath, I helped save a family member’s life, and I won’t let you be late for work. Oh, and I do love my treats, especially hamburgers.
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Winkie Sees Grandpa
It was time for Winkie’s check up. Typically, after we arrived at the Veterinarian’s office and before I got out, I would attach Winkie’s red leash to his collar. Then I walked around the truck to help him out. I knew he was anxious to get out, so I slowly opened his door. As he jumped, I cradled my arms around his belly and guided his jump so he wouldn’t hit the ground with his full weight. Once inside the vet’s office, people would look at him and a few would ask what breed he was. I’d tell them he was a Basset Hound, Shar-Pei mix. He was very good-tempered and never growled at anyone, well almost no one.
On this particular day while we waited in the exam room, Winkie saw a small red hat on a chair. He went over and grabbed it. When Dr. Shore walked in and saw Winkie holding the hat he said, “You could keep it, boy. I bought it for my son but it’s too small.” With a clean bill of health, Winkie proudly pranced out to the truck with the hat in his mouth. After getting him into the truck I put the cap on his head. He quickly shook it off and it landed on the passenger side floor.
Once we arrived home, I helped him out of the truck. He quickly turned around, sat up and put his front paws on the floor panel. Then stretching his stubby brown neck as far as he could, he grabbed the hat from the floor and hurried to the front door. I opened it and he proudly trotted to mother who was sitting at the kitchen table.
“Were you a good boy?” she asked, scratching his head. He was so happy, his entire body began wagging. I looked up and saw a tear running down my mother’s face. “Grandpa had a hat exactly like this. Where did you get it?” She put her hand down and Winkie let the hat go. Then he sat down and looked at her with almost a smile.
“Arff, Arff,” he said in a higher-pitched bark. “Arff, arff,” he repeated. I walked behind him, curious to find out what was going on. I followed his line of sight. He was staring, not at mother, but over her left shoulder. A small area behind her seemed a bit blurry like there was a drop of water in my eye. For a moment, it looked like grandpa, and he was wearing a red baseball cap too, exactly like the one Winkie had found.