Mark Bonnar’s Max is out of jail and looking for revenge in the return of this witty, scintillating treat set in a Trainspotting-esque Edinburgh
On a park bench in Edinburgh, a furtive woman in a beret is telling an equally furtive man without a beret a shaggy dog story. In 1588, she says, a ship from the Spanish Armada sank off the Hebrides. Survivors included some little dogs. For centuries, the resulting canine colony thrived secretly until it was time to pass the breed off as west highland terriers. The adorable one romping at her feet, she scarcely needs add, is a descendant.
Now don’t do anything silly. Don’t Google this story to find out if it’s true. Instead, as I did, imagine the poppets paddling with their wee paws, underbites aloft, towards the beach where kindly locals wait with fresh towels.
