So, I decided on the spur of the moment to go to the NC State Fairgrounds. There, I just knew I could find the bassett hound of my dreams. I'm not sure why someone living in an apartment would decide on a bassett hound, but I was young, and apparently stupid. Anyway. I get to the fairgrounds, but no bassett hounds. But, but, but I had it in my mind I was going to take home a puppy that day. I had to.
Then, I saw him. A tiny little fuzz of cream colored hair. I went closer to take a look at the box full of fluff. They were all eager to be held, but one held back. He was a little smaller than the rest and most definitely more stand-offish. It was kismet. He was going to be mine.
As I walked around with him in my Vera Bradley tote bag in Target, his name came to me. Winston. It didn't even occur to me that I was naming him after one of my childhood friends until my parents mentioned it later that day. So, from then on Mr.Winston.the.Dog. and I have been inseparable. He's a 10 lb. peek-a-poo and a ball of sometimes energy. He answers to many names...Winkadoodle, Wink, Winkadoo, Chicken. He's a smart kid. His mama raised him up right. He can sit and stay and lay down and settle and shake and high five.
He's a homebody. He looooves to be a lap dog. He's not too keen on the outdoors, and he likes to bury under the blankets to curl up in the crook of your knee. He doesn't mind putting on clothes, but hats are another story. He has an absolute hissy fit when you take his collar off, and he owns my heart.
Here's some Winkadoo fun....
|A good Democrat is raised that way from birth.|
|Please mom, no more baths. 10 weeks.|
|Happy Halloween 2007!|
|Wanna come take a nap? 2010|
|Winston's best friend, Bo. They're tight. He knows people.|