OK, here’s something else that might happen on Wolfe Island. You might drive into the village to get hot dog buns for lunch, and you might park along the curb right behind a pick-up truck with this sign in the back:
When this happens, you’re like Do not go see the puppies. Don’t look at the puppies. Don’t touch the puppies. You will want the puppies …
And then you might see this:
You will be afraid to ask how much they are, because you can probably afford them. Instead you’ll make gushing noises about how cute, and calm, and well-mannered they are (all these things are true) and you’ll tell the little boy looking after them how healthy and happy they look (which they do) and his dad will tell you the little boy has to look after them because he’s the one who let the black lab (Daddy dog) out when he wasn’t supposed to – whoopsie! – resulting in TEN puppies.
They aren’t just black:
You will tear yourself away and go into the General Store to buy hot dog buns, and when you come out the guy with the puppies will give you a grin and ask “You sure you don’t want one?”
And you will not be able to go any closer to the truck because if you do, you’ll have to go back into the General Store and buy puppy food!