I remember the day where Winter first wanted a puppy. She promised to take care of it every day. So after a month, we went to our local animal shelter. Winter didn't like any of the dogs there, and we thought she wouldn't want a dog any more. But, on the way back home, we found a beautiful stray puppy. It had escaped from a nearby box. Winter shouted, "Stop the car, mommy!!" I did, and she ran out and picked up the little white puppy. She took it to the man near the box and asked how much they were. He replied that they were purebred huskies, and that they were expensive. Winter had $200 saved up, and asked if that was enough. Of course, they were $450. Winter began to cry, and the man felt bad because of it. Winter was only five, and very cute at the time. He accepted the $200 from winter for it, and even gave us some other puppy supplies.
That night, Winter set up a little cardboard box next to her bad with a bunch of newspaper and her favorite blanket. The little white puppy slept through the night without a sound. The next morning, Winter's brother came into the room, anxious to see what the puppy looked like, since he had been at a friend's house. Winter woke up and saw that her brother had the puppy in his hands, and Winter screamed through the neighborhood, "PUT HER DOWN! I HAVEN'T EVEN NAMED HER YET, SO YOU CAN'T HAVE HER!" Vlad set the puppy down, stunned that his normally quiet baby sister yelled so loudly.
Winter had bought a book of baby names a week or so earlier, and looked through it for a long time, deciding on a name for her new little sister. She couldn't find one that fit the beautiful snowy-white dog. I was reading the paper when she came up to me and asked me, "Mommy, you know how you know Japananese? ((she always called it that)) I want to name her Snow, but in Japananese. What is it? What is snow in Japananese?"
"Yuki, Winter. Snow in Japanese is 'Yuki,' which is a beautiful name. Very good choice of names. How ever did you decide that?"
"She's white, the name matches mine, and she told me that that should be her name, but she didn't know Japananese. So she told me to ask you. And she also said that your bottle of perfume broke."
I found that last part odd, since not only did I not smell it, but there is no way Winter could have known that. I went to my room after my daughter left, only to find the bottle broken and spilled everywhere.
Even a few months ago, I found Winter talking to Yuki, almost having a conversation. I've never told Winter anything about my noticing this. But I've found it very strange. And the strangest thing of all: This morning, I smelled that perfume again all over my clothes, even though they were new, and that perfume hasn't been around in ages. Others asked me what it was, and I told them that it was a gift from Yuki. Fond memories come to mind even now as I smell that perfume on my blouse. I have a feeling my husband had something to do with it, but he won't admit to it. I have a feeling that Yuki did it as a thank-you gift for treating her so well.
That night, Winter set up a little cardboard box next to her bad with a bunch of newspaper and her favorite blanket. The little white puppy slept through the night without a sound. The next morning, Winter's brother came into the room, anxious to see what the puppy looked like, since he had been at a friend's house. Winter woke up and saw that her brother had the puppy in his hands, and Winter screamed through the neighborhood, "PUT HER DOWN! I HAVEN'T EVEN NAMED HER YET, SO YOU CAN'T HAVE HER!" Vlad set the puppy down, stunned that his normally quiet baby sister yelled so loudly.
Winter had bought a book of baby names a week or so earlier, and looked through it for a long time, deciding on a name for her new little sister. She couldn't find one that fit the beautiful snowy-white dog. I was reading the paper when she came up to me and asked me, "Mommy, you know how you know Japananese? ((she always called it that)) I want to name her Snow, but in Japananese. What is it? What is snow in Japananese?"
"Yuki, Winter. Snow in Japanese is 'Yuki,' which is a beautiful name. Very good choice of names. How ever did you decide that?"
"She's white, the name matches mine, and she told me that that should be her name, but she didn't know Japananese. So she told me to ask you. And she also said that your bottle of perfume broke."
I found that last part odd, since not only did I not smell it, but there is no way Winter could have known that. I went to my room after my daughter left, only to find the bottle broken and spilled everywhere.
Even a few months ago, I found Winter talking to Yuki, almost having a conversation. I've never told Winter anything about my noticing this. But I've found it very strange. And the strangest thing of all: This morning, I smelled that perfume again all over my clothes, even though they were new, and that perfume hasn't been around in ages. Others asked me what it was, and I told them that it was a gift from Yuki. Fond memories come to mind even now as I smell that perfume on my blouse. I have a feeling my husband had something to do with it, but he won't admit to it. I have a feeling that Yuki did it as a thank-you gift for treating her so well.
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