“Here,” Phil said. “pass me the piece of paper. I’ll draw Freddie.”
He spent a few seconds scribbling. And this is what he drew:
And we all laughed, and we all agreed. Because Fred, the new dog on the block at Shrewsday Mansions, is an insolent explosion of black. A lary sable sly on the fly. An onyx wolfish profusion.
The snow sent him high, man. Freddie was on Planet Snow, populated with little white crystals. The only other living being on the planet was a small brown terrier, Freddie’s compatriot through life, and old hand at this Snow thing. But Macaulay was eminently willing to be led.