Page 5 - HelperHounds_Bk8_Louis.indd

I shoved my tongue out. The dog did the

same.

That floofy-faced fellow was me.

Thank goodness I was standing on the
grooming table at Mrs. Tramill’s Poodle

Grooming Salon. Lisa had really let me go. Sure,

Lisa had been really busy at work, but this was

ridiculous. Good thing, I looked adorable in
my shaggy “puppy cut.”

But still. This was silly. I was a Helper

Hound! We had standards! Well, at least I did.

I was a standard poodle after all. My friends
Penny and Sparky, King Tut and Spooky, may

not care much about their looks. But let’s face

it: how they looked didn’t affect what they

could do. Our fancy haircuts help us standard
poodles do our jobs. Besides making me look

handsome, my smooth snout, properly placed

poofs, and fluffy cuffs are there to keep me

warm and help me float. And you never know

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