We drove through the afternoon sunshine up a green and wooded way, a gravel road leading to an old brick farmhouse. The lane narrowed and slid between two rickety gateposts. As the car crunched forward, a beautiful black dog suddenly came galloping toward us, roo roo roo roo she barked, clearly telling us to stand down and state our business. 2 flaxen-haired toddlers appeared behind her and advanced on the car as well, forcing us to shift down from crawl to stop. I got out to shepherd everyone away from the car, and ended up leading the procession into the farmyard.
There, what a wonderful sight met our eyes: PUPPIES! A bazillion of them, it seemed at first, until the wiggling, happily greeting, sniffily welcoming black pupballs resolved into individual units and we counted ...9...10...11...12!
Martin, Karin, Anders and I dropped to our knees to say hello. Such squiggly wiggling! Such whippity tails! Such lickity lippings!
enthralled
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