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Sniffing the Wind

by Robert Sawtelle

280 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #04-0136; ISBN 1-4120-2308-4; US$24.50, C$29.00, EUR20.00, £14.00

A mystery about today's social issues as seen through the eyes of a cloned dog. A story you won't find in Ladies' Home Journal.

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about the book      about the author      excerpts      catalogue info

About the Book When Pepi 101, who was successfully cloned to solve organ transplant rejection and HIV, accidentally escapes from Robinson Labs, she is found in a semi truck trailer owned by the Hanes brothers, who are on their way to a truck stop and a Wal-Mart pickup. They find Pepi 101 and bring her to the pound to be adopted because, tough guy, String Bean Hanes is competing in a cross dressing contest that night. At the pound, Pepi 101 meets other dogs that tell her of the canine's perspective of the human condition. Eventually, a loving family adopts Pepi for their thirteen-year-old daughter, Sara, who is HIV infected. Sara's whole life becomes one of hope and affection, until tragically a dognapper steals Pepi in order to collect a large ransom for Pepi's return to Robinson Research. Fortunately, Pepi 101 is rescued but targeted by The Right Way, a terrorist Luddite cult that is determined to murder the scientists and Pepi 101.

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About the Author Robert Sawtelle, an educator, world traveler and keynote speaker on future trends, who has taught future studies courses and delivered hundreds of corporate and company presentations on the future. He has written Sniffing the Wind as a mystery that deals with today's headline social issues, i.e. terrorism, HIV, and love as seen through the eyes of a cloned dog. Retiring from education, he began his professional speaking career giving keynote speeches on the Challenges of Change, The Five Ages We Live In, Brother Can You Paradigm, Visions/Realities For the Twenty-first Century until a major stroke curtailed his busy schedule. He is an avid racquetball player who shivers in Minnesota with his wife, two sons, and Pepi the Wonder Dog... but that's another story.

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Excerpts

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Pepi, who was sound asleep inside the empty truck, heard the door slam shut and two drivers talking loudly.

"You drive the first 50 miles to the truck stop center on Hwy. 10 outside of Ontario where I can get real grub, a shower, and shave for my 5 o' clock shadow," shouted String Bean over the roar of the diesel engine. "I can make my change there - then I'll drive the other 20 miles to Wal-Mart in Loma Linda to pick up that damaged merchandise - besides, I want to get the feel of what's its like driving in high heels."

His brother and partner, Curly, wiped his shiny head and said, "Are you going to enter another drag queen contest? You lost the last one because of your dark chest hair and beard, not to mention your chewing tobacco habit. And that name, Miss Rose Hipps, just don't fit. But then again, wadda I know?"

He slowly blinked, shook his head, and said, "Besides, those outfits you wear are 'spendy' and we gotta save all we can just to cover our fuel costs and taxes."

"You're full of crap. I have a nice slim body and I don't spend all that much because I buy 'worn once' clothes. There are a lot of choices in my size. Besides I've gotta new name - Miss Crescendo!"

"What about all that makeup? You can't tell me that's cheap."

"It is if you shop closeouts and discount stores. You just can't understand how it makes me forget this trucking business and how I wished I had become a fashion model."

"Yeah, right."

Curly squeezed his bulk behind the wheel and started the drive to Ontario while String Bean tried to sleep and dream of his entrance to the show.

As the semi bumped and swayed along the freeway, Pepi was wet, cold, and terrified in the dark trailer. The truck would accelerate, and then decelerate, and Pepi would slide back and forth. She tried to dig her nails into something, anything to stop from slipping. She felt like dice in a shaker, only much looser.

Finally, the semi pulled over to the truck stop in Ontario. The smell of exhaust filled the air and the clacking of diesel engines left running was typical of the stop. Fifteen or sixteen rigs were idling as the drivers were all inside eating, napping, or showering. Curly and String Bean went inside the building and left their engine running.

An hour later, Curly returned to the truck wearing his cowboy boots, plaid shirt, and blue jeans with a big ring of keys hanging from his belt, while String Bean returned in high heels, a black wig, and a pink sheath dress with a slit on the side.

String Bean looked passable in drag. He had shaved his eyebrows but covered his eyelids with too much shadow. His makeup was not perfect but his rhinestone necklace that sparkled in the dome light detracted from it. The clip on earrings with the imitation pearls blended nicely with his almost-white teeth - however, he had made a big mistake.

"What's that smell you have on?" said Curly, sniffing.

"Oh damn it - instead of cologne, I forgot and dashed on some after-shave lotion. Do you think anyone will notice?

"I don't think so."

"What about my lipstick? Is it straight - too thick - right shade?"

"It looks good to me, but wadda I know. Do you have to wear a boa, too?"

"Do I tell you how to dress?"

"If you are going to drive, how are you going to shift gears in them high heels?"

"What do you expect me to wear, flats - besides, I've got to learn sometime."

Curly said, "I bought some pizza to eat on the way in case we want a snack. It's another 20 miles to Loma Linda and we might get hungry. It's your favorite, pepperoni, anchovies, and butterfly shrimp."

"Thanks, but I'll wait till we get further down the road - you know how them anchovies gives me gas."

The truck resumed its bumping along and Pepi could smell the 'take out' pizza through the open cab window. It was a new odor to her that she liked very much.

Passing cars and trucks would wave and blow their horns at String Bean when they saw who was driving. They zipped right by Bloomington on Hwy. 10 outside of Colton and picked up speed.

"Curly said, "I hate to tell you but we're way over the speed limit of 65 mph on this stretch of highway and I just saw Smokey go by on the other side."

"Oh don't worry - I'm just drying my nails out the window and I'll slow down as soon as they're dry."

"Too late, comrade. He saw us and he's turning around. The bubble is on and the siren is singing our tune."

"Maybe, he'll go around us, after someone else," String Bean hoped.

"Nope, we're the lucky ones."

"Well, I'll be dipped. A lady truck driver all dressed up and roaring to go to a party," said the state trooper.

"Please step out and show me your driver's license."

"OK, it's under the seat." String Bean had to pull up his sheath dress revealing one torn net stocking underneath, two unshaved legs, and some boxer shorts. He grabbed and opened his purse.

Curly was shocked when he saw the cop admiring String Bean's buns but didn't say anything.

"Here it is, officer." Accidentally, a photo of J. Edgar Hoover in a red velvet gown fell out of his purse.

"Who the hell's picture is this on this license? Are you driving with someone else's license? If so, I'm going to arrest you for not having a valid driver's license. The fine is $350 or the judge will have you do 10 hours of community service.

Curly, realizing the confusion, interrupted and said, "Officer, I can explain everything. This is my brother, Andrew (String Bean) Hanes in drag. He likes to dress up in ladies' clothes and enter beauty contests. We are on our way to one right now in Sunnymead, 'Queen for a Night' and we're very late - couldn't you just give him a warning and let him go? Here, let me show you he's really a guy."

Curly yanked on String Bean's wig and revealed his brother's identity.

String Bean blushed, looked down, and sighed, "Busted!"

Curly pleaded, "Please, just give him a warning."

"Holy Moley. Yeah, OK I guess 'she' is a 'he.' Nevertheless, 'she' was still speeding.

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Catalogue Information

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