Gone to the dogs: a bonanza of books worth barking about

Do you love your dog? Do you have long conversations with him, take him for rides in the car (tongue flapping in the breeze), and let him curl up in your bed? If so, don't try explaining your puppy love to someone who doesn't share an affection for animals. As Deborah Tannen would say, they just don't understand. There's an unbridgeable gap, it seems, between the dog lovers of the world, and those who think animals are best viewed at a distance, preferably behind the bars of a zoo cage.

But don't despair. There are plenty of dog lovers around who share your passion -- possibly even a few who can top it. Just consider the books that have arrived at the offices of BookPage in recent months. At last count, we'd received nearly 20 new books about dogs.

Maybe we should blame Willie Morris. It was this Mississippi native who perfected the my-dog-and-me memoir in 1995 with My Dog Skip. Morris poured out an unabashedly sentimental portrayal of a dog so wondrous he could play football, drive a car, and buy bologna at the grocery store. Skip has charmed thousands of readers, and, more recently, moviegoers, since this spring's release of the film very loosely based on Morris's reminiscences.

REVIEWS BY LYNN GREEN

Whatever the inspiration, several writers have been moved lately to capture their memories of a special dog in their lives. The leader of the pack in this genre, paws down, is Rick Bass's Colter: The True Story of the Best Dog I Ever Had. Bass has a deservedly strong reputation as a nature writer, and his talents are on vivid display in this volume. He has produced a book to be savored, perhaps while relaxing in a hammock on a lazy summer afternoon, with your dog asleep on the ground below.

The beauty of the writing brings an eloquent, even erudite, flavor to this dog story. Bass rambles through earlier events in his life, including his childhood fascination with all the creatures of the natural world. After describing his attachment to a series of pets, he moves on to the heart of his tale -- the love story between man and dog. Colter is a bird dog, a German shorthaired pointer, whose muscular strength, unflagging energy, and devotion to the chase endear him to his owner:

"Who knows what combination, what sequence and percentage of experience versus bloodline conspires to sculpt an individual? Perhaps by dint of his being the runt of the litter, unpicked until the very last, he developed an extraordinary drive -- a fury to excel at the thing the world, and his blood, told him to do." His blood told him to hunt, and Colter proves to be a master at tracking a scent; a single bird feather can send him into a frenzy.

Even non-hunters (myself included) can share in the exhilaration Bass and Colter share as they tear across the Montana terrain in search of grouse and pheasant. Bass conveys the beauty of the landscape, the intricacies of the hunt, and the fierce connection between man and dog. Although it's not our intention to reveal the ending, one thing is clear: If you can finish this book without weeping, you are not a dog lover.


A sad ending is almost a given in dog books, but writer Charles Siebert has an interesting solution to this dilemma: He starts his book with a dying dog. Siebert's Angus: A Memoir is presented as an autobiography of the author's own Jack Russell terrier. The story is told entirely from the vantage point of the dog, looking back on his brief life as he faces death.

This abrupt start is disquieting for the reader, to say the least, but it's difficult not to be drawn in by Siebert's imagined canine monologue. The author captures the feisty terrier disposition, along with the mutual devotion of pet and owner, and the sometimes tortured attempts at communication between the two. Purchased at a farm in England where Siebert and his wife were traveling, Angus later relocates to Brooklyn, and finally to a cabin in the woods of Quebec. It is there that the little terrier meets his doom, apparently in an attack by coyotes.

As he reflects on the events of his life, Angus describes the human world through the eyes of a dog. Shoes are "feet-shadow pieces," (objects to be chewed, of course), while an apartment building appears as "a tall, brown stack of room squares." Siebert's ability to represent Angus's voice is the real strength of this book, but there's also some insightful reflection on the links between man and beast. "It's a bit scary how attached we get to dogs," Siebert declares in a brief epilogue. "There's something deep within our respective beings that connects us to them."


If you're interested in exploring that connection, there's no better guide than Elizabeth Marshall Thomas, author of The Hidden Lives of Dogs. Thomas has followed her groundbreaking book with a new look at group behavior, The Social Life of Dogs: The Grace of Canine Company In this keenly observed portrait of dog society, Thomas contends that "like the finger of a hand, a dog by itself is almost not a thing. Only as a part of the hand does it have function." Since her own New Hampshire household came to include five human residents, as well as seven dogs, nine cats, and five parrots, Thomas had an ideal observation post for considering dogs' social behavior. She provides a fascinating analysis of each dog's personality -- from aloof and fiercely intelligent Sundog to sweet, awkward Misty -- and explains the interactions of the "mixed-species group" to which they belong. There are, doubtlessly, many people who don't know their own relatives as well as Thomas knows her pets. With her easy-to-read, anecdotal style, Thomas manages to convey a wealth of information while keeping the reader interested in the canine characters. By the end of the book, she may even have you believing that dogs have ESP (extra-sensory perception).


If you prefer a more visual approach to dog appreciation, Algonquin Books released a book this month that it is sure to make you sit up and beg. Southern Dogs & Their People should appeal to dog lovers everywhere, despite its regional focus. Edited by Roberta Gamble, with photographs by P.S. Davis and an introduction by Clyde Edgerton, Southern Dogs combines evocative dog photos with quotations from Southern writers.

From old hound dogs to pampered poodles, the dogs seen through Davis's lens amuse and delight, and at least one may remind you of your own canine companion. Who could argue with the late Lewis Grizzard, one of the writers quoted in Southern Dogs.

"I've said it often, but it remains true: The thing about a dog is, you can come home at any hour, in any condition, and the dog cares not. He, or she, is just glad to see you."


Lynn Green has been accused of spoiling her badly behaved Jack Russell terrier, Skipper.

© 2000 ProMotion, inc.
www@bookpage.com