“Sorry, Kamila, I’ll see you at the meeting with Tim later, but I can’t hang out right now. I’ve got my hands full at the moment,” Asha said.

“What are your hands full with?”

“Puppies.”

“What? What puppies?”

“A litter was left in a cardboard box outside this morning. Literally puppies in a box like this is a sitcom or something. Believe it or not, their medical records were left in the box, too. One of them peed on them. Or maybe all of them did. There was a lot of pee. Like, holy shit, a lot of pee. Obviously, these dogs weren’t dehydrated.”

This was unconscionable. “There are new puppies at the shelter and you didn’t call me right away?”

“There are no other managers here. I needed to get them examined and processed.”

“How are they?”

“Four are in perfect health. I’ll give the fifth to the vet to examine if you get off the phone. He’s the runt but—”

“I’m on my way.”

A supportive friend was what Kamila’d thought she needed after that breakfast. But instead, the universe gave her what she actually needed. Puppies. She changed in record time.

Twenty minutes later, Kamila was on the floor of the largest enclosure in the animal shelter in a calf-length magenta corduroy skirt and a black fitted mohair sweater, sitting on old bedsheets with three tiny black puppies wriggling on her lap.

“I suspect someone was giving backyard breeding a try,” Asha said, “then realized how much work it is. The medical records say they’re Lab mixes. It’s nice to see healthy puppies surrendered for a change. They’re about four weeks old now. We’ll probably wait until they’re eight weeks before we adopt them out. Give or take.”

Kamila laughed as one of them stood on the head of another to lick her face. A fourth puppy was chewing on the toe of Kamila’s boot (which was fine—she’d specifically bought these Hunter rubber boots to wear at the shelter). Asha was holding the fifth puppy, the only beige one in the otherwise all-black litter.

“I want them all,” Kamila said.

“You don’t have time for a puppy.”

“I know, I know. I just want them.” She buried her face in the fur of the one closest to her. Ah, that new-puppy smell. “Let me see that one.” She put out her arms to take the beige puppy from Asha’s hands. Holding him out in front of her, she looked at his sweet face. “Aw, this one’s the runt, isn’t it?”

Asha nodded. “Yup. Smallest, and the only brown one. He’s got some catching up to do, but he’s healthy enough.”