The Whizpigs and Their Wild Adventures: Bedtime Stories

By Richard V Crume

Everyone of all ages will enjoy these bedtime stories about the Whizpigs and their neighbors in Whizpig Land, including Durango the Fire-Breathing Dragon, Gloria the Go-Go-Glo-Worm, Grumbly the Giant Wolfhound, Gussy the Grinning Grasshopper, King Tutankhamen Turtle, Slurpy the Crooked Crocodile, and Whizzy the Whizard. You'll take a ride down P

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bald Cypress Press
• Release date: Aug 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9798218147082

Richard V Crume

Richard Crume is an engineer and author with nearly 100 professional publications and workshops covering a wide variety of topics in the fields of public health, the environment, and climate change. His Whizpig stories are inspired by the tales his father used to tell at bedtime, a cherished memory of growing up back in the 1950s. According to Richard, "My father knew that bedtime can be challenging for young, spirited children and their parents, but his stories gave us something to look forward to, to fall asleep to." In many ways, life was simpler back then-there were no video games and no social media-and there were more opportunities for parents and children to spend time together reading books and telling stories. Richard hopes these tales about the lovable Whizpigs will bring joy and comfort to the hearts of children while, perhaps, helping revive the art of storytelling.

Book preview

One

The Winged Dalmatian

When I was growing up, I had lots of fun playing with my friends, and sometimes I even enjoyed going to school. We had some wonderful family vacations too. But among all the experiences I had when I was young, there’s one event that stands out in my mind. It happened one night, in the middle of the night, when I woke up to find a Dalmatian in my bedroom, staring at me with a funny sort of grin, her tongue dangling to one side. Dalmatians are very special dogs—they are extremely devoted to their human families, and they were famous in the old days for riding around on fire engines. However, to find one in my bedroom in the middle of the night was, well, highly unusual!

I know this is hard to believe, but the Dalmatian who visited me that evening had wings like a bird, and she motioned for me to hop on her back, which, of course, I did. Off we went, flying through my bedroom window, up, up, and away into the sky—so far up I could not make out anything other than the tops of clouds way below. And just as suddenly as we had flown way up, we descended through the clouds and landed in a very strange and wonderful land, where trees had faces and arms, ready to give you a friendly hug as you walked by, and lollipops hung from their branches. We had arrived in the Woody Woodlands, home of the Whizpigs.

The Whizpigs are plump and pink and about the size of a very big pumpkin, the kind that wins contests at state fairs. They have cute little curly tails and pointed ears, and they speak with a kind of chuckle in their voices. Ha ha ha how are you deedu deedu deedulely du, they will say in their singsong way. The Whizpigs spend most of their time sitting around a campfire eating snails and roasting marshmallows, while a few Whizpigs stand guard, ready to protect the brood against their most feared predator in the woods—Slurpy, the Crooked Crocodile.

Slurpy lives with his brothers and sisters in a nearby pond covered with greenish slime. The pond is so deep it reaches almost to the center of the Earth, allowing rotten gases from way underground to bubble up through the surface and make anyone nearby sick, except, of course, for the crocodiles, who love the stinking odor. Every now and then, usually at dinnertime, Slurpy has a craving for a little piggy, and he will sneak over to the campfire when no one is looking and try to grab one!

Seeing the Winged Dalmatian and I had touched down in their midst, the Whizpigs invited us to munch on some snails and warm up by the fire. And after a while, Chester P. Whizpig, one of the elder pigs, grabbed my hand and took me to see their spiritual leader, the Whizard of Whizpig Land—Whizzy for short—who lived in a giant hole in a giant tree on a giant hill overlooking the Woody Woodlands. 

To get to Whizzy’s home, we had to cross over the crocodile pond, gently stepping on the backs of sleeping crocodiles until reaching the other side. We waited until the crocs were sound asleep, and then very quietly crept over the pond, not making a sound. But the instant we arrived at the other side, Slurpy woke up and chased us all the way up the hill. Just in the nick of time, as Slurpy was poised to consume Chester in one bite, and me too, we scrambled into Whizzy’s hole and were safe. 

Inside was very dark—all we could make out were Whizzy’s orange eyes glowing in the darkness and a little parrot named Polly-Parrot residing on his shoulder. Every time Whizzy spoke, Polly-Parrot repeated whatever he said in a high-pitched, squeaky voice. The parrot also echoed whatever Chester and I said, and one time, when we were all talking at the same time, Polly-Parrot became quite upset and screeched: I can’t take it anymore, I REALLY can’t take it anymore! We all quieted down, and so did Polly-Parrot. After that, we fed him crackers to keep him quiet.

Whizzy said he had a special message for me—something he said I needed to know before returning to my bedroom back home. But before I could hear the message, I had to promise the Whizpigs I would never divulge their location and always refuse bacon for breakfast. I readily agreed, and Whizzy began speaking, very slowly and deliberately, as if he were telling us a secret never told before. This is what he said:

Everyone in the world is special. That’s true of you and me and everyone you can think of, and everyone else too. And everyone has some special talent, something they are good at, perhaps better than anyone else. The secret to a happy life is discovering your very own special talent—by being inquisitive, watching and learning all the time, and asking lots of questions. You may find you are really good at baking bread or playing the saxophone or coaching soccer teams or painting houses or washing dogs or, well, just about anything you can imagine. Keep searching, don’t give up, and one day you will find that special talent, and when you do, the world will be a better place for you, and for everybody! But for now, you must return to your home as quickly as possible before your parents find you missing and call the police!

With that, Chester and I made our way down the hillside, trying to be very quiet so as not to disturb the crocodiles. But I’ll bet you know who was waiting for us at the bottom of the hill—Slurpy! We ran as fast as we could, keeping just one step ahead of crooked croc, when suddenly