Winn Dixie

didn't turn and look at me or smile or sneeze or wag his tail, or do any normal kind of Winn-Dixie thing; he just kept beating his head against the door and crying and shaking.

"You want the door open?" I said. "Huh? Is that what you want?" I stood up and opened the door and Winn-Dixie flew through it like something big and ugly and mean was chasing him. "Winn-Dixie," I hissed, "come back here." I didn't want him going and waking the preacher up.

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