"Jesus," Ewan says, dumbfounded, "there's so
In reality, there are only about eight puppies, but when they're all piled together in a mass of Golden Retriever like some sort of dog-based Voltron-style robot,
it's easy to imagine there are really hundreds of them with more lurking where you'd least expect it.
He elbows Jude. "I said
puppy, right? He's not going to try to bring four of them home?"
"This was your idea," Jude reminds him, rolling his eyes.
Andy's with the breeder, Cathy, now, who picks a pup out of the litter and sets it down in front of Andy. "What do you think?" she asks.
Andy reaches out carefully and strokes the puppy's fur, all the way down its back, until the puppy's wriggling and wagging its tail and Andy's grinning ear-to-ear.
"Is that the one?" Ewan says, eyeing the rest of the puppies suspiciously.
"I think I want to name him Grover," Andy says. "Is that a good name for a dog?"
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