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Many a smart writer who wants to get published will do one of two things in her or his career:  write a dog book, or put a picture of one on the cover. Being a “dog person” (not to be mistaken for a “cat person”), I admit to having read an amazing number of the thousands of dog books published,  given more than a passing glance to books with pictures of dogs on the cover, as well as worked on my own “dog book” for years.  Being dog-less is difficult–we lost our last one a year ago–but I have many wonderful memories I can revisit through the following favorites.

 

Merle’s Door: Lessons from a Freethinking Dog, by Ted Kerasote

Probably my all-time favorite to date is the story of a dog that writer and outdoorsman Kerasote encountered while on a camping trip to the San Juan River in Utah years ago.  He named him Merle, of course took him home, letting the dog roam and explore on his own to a great degree in the small town of Kelly, Wyoming, near Jackson Hole.  Freethinking is the important point here–for Kerasote his relationship with this dog was largely experimental and interactive.  Having the wilderness and Tetons surrounding them, the boy and his dog were able to roam widely, hike fiercely and ski freely.  It made me rethink much of my own interactions with dogs–to work on listening and observing more, and command and control less.  But isn’t that a lesson for us all in any relationship?  This has been a best-seller at Darvill’s for the past six years, and will continue to be so, with a sequel just as unique (see below).

 

Pack of Two, by Caroline Knapp

What a small but poignant and beautiful body of writing Knapp left before her untimely death in 2002!  I have read them all–but this book is a particular gift because she had lost both her parents and quit drinking before getting her dog Lucille, a rescue Shepherd mix from a local animal shelter. As she explores her bond with Lucille in her newly sober and parentless life, she also researches trends and examines the relationships of friends and acquaintances to their own dogs.  She saw that, for many people, the relationship with their dog or dogs competed or substituted for other human relationships, but she is observant on this point, not judgmental.  For a wonderful companion to this title, read Gail Caldwell’s Let’s Take the Long Way Home, chronicling her close relationship with Knapp, her own dog, and Knapp’s death.  I love this author’s intellect, vulnerability and candor. I am so grateful for the body of work she left.

 

 

Inside of a Dog, by Alexandra Horowitz

Here is what I usually look for in a dog book: science that tells me more about dogs, liberally illustrated with specific stories.  Subtitled “What Dogs See, Smell, and Know”, Horowitz’s book added immensely to my canine understanding.  I already knew dogs could hear much, much better than I, but how much better, and what sounds affected them?  Her writing veers between the scientific professional she is, and the dog-lover she is also.  The book is not a formal training guide, but I came away with more than one new idea about relating to my dog, such as understanding that her sight is not what I had thought it to be, for example.  Those who tend to anthropomorphize dogs may not be happy about some of the things they find out here, but I was excited–I always want to know more about what dogs may perceive, and challenge my own made-up explanations with facts.

 

 

Colter, by Rick Bass

There is no way around it–this story is a heartbreaker, but the most beautifully written heartbreaker I have read in a long, long time.  Bass is an elegant and spare nature writer, and this story of the life and loss of Colter, his hunting companion and “favorite” dog, shows his talent at its best.  Set in Montana, this story of the “runt of the litter” Bass got as a pup envelops the reader with a setting that time seems to have left behind. Yet the emotion was so new and raw, I felt I was hiking along with them, feeling the tingly autumn cold at dusk, waiting for the dogs to flush the pheasant.  Having been raised by a fisherman and bird- hunting Dad, I could even smell the musky scent of the hunt, feel the energy of dogs, and the warmth of coming home, dirty and late, but successful. This story is so heartfelt, so lovely, I was more than willing to endure the heartbreak too!

 

 

The Dog Who Loved too Much, by Dr. Nicholas Dodman

Years ago we adopted a large male Airedale that had been abandoned by its owner after eating part of a rug and almost dying.  The local animal protection society paid for the dog to have life-saving surgery, and our vet convinced me that we would be able to properly care for it, because we had experience with the breed.  He also gave us a copy of this book, in case we needed help managing this neurotic dog.  We did, and it helped (see chapter 6).  Forget the amiable and confident dog-whisperers of TV, and read the real-life tales and trials of numerous psychologically damaged dogs (and their people!).  There is scarcely a condition that is not covered in this book, and even if your dog is absolutely “normal”, the stories are fascinating.  I wouldn’t be surprised if most of these techniques worked on us humans, too!

 

 

Pukka’s Promise, by Ted Kerasote

This sequel, equally as powerful as Kerasote’s first book Merle, covers slightly different ground.  Having been dog-less for five years after Merle’s death, Kerasote searches for a pup that will be very much like Merle in breed, but knowing he will also be different.  Kerasote’s subtitle is enticing: The Quest for Longer-Lived Dogs, and he has done his homework.  Along with the delightful story of bringing home his new puppy, he digs hard and deep into factors that determine how long our dogs live.  He uncovers fascinating things about the pet-food industry and what we choose to feed our dogs, the latest on cancer in canines, and dog-breeding.  While some of the discoveries surprised him (and myself), many confirmed my opinions, and some I had never thought about.  You may not agree with everything he says, but the story of his new pup alone is worth the price of admission.  I learned a lot, and enjoyed every minute (except maybe the tough chapter on cancer, of which our sweet Kali died almost a year ago).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Having just returned from a much-needed vacation in the Southwest, absorbing heat, sun, and the surprising diversity of nature there, I started remembering books that I loved about this unique environment.  Here is my rather quirky list of remembered favorites, plus others I have read since coming home.  Being an independent bookstore lover, I also visited one of Tucson’s best: Antigone–funky, feminist and friendly–and was drawn to their abundant staff picks section.

 

Across the Wire, by Luis Alberto Urrea

I first met Urrea at a writer’s conference in Oregon, years ago, and was immediately impressed when I read this, his first book.  I have followed his career from a distance since, as he has become a well-known fiction writer (Hummingbird’s Daughter, Queen of America).  Raised in San Diego by a white mother and hispanic father, he chronicles his  work with a group of volunteers from 1978-82 in the garbage dumps of Tijuana in this title.  I would recommend all his books, but if you want to start with the most powerful, start with this one. It puts a frank face on the poverty and despair of border life in Mexico, yet the story glows with compassion as he chronicles the stories of the individual lives he touched, and those who, in turn, touched him.

 

Death Comes for the Archbishop, by Willa Cather

This was the first Cather novel I read, and it is still my favorite (if one can even pick a favorite from among her numerous powerful writings).  I came to her novels late, only a few years ago, and was amazed at what I had missed.  Cather’s story of a bishop who comes to the Southwest and his vicar at the parish in which he serves for almost forty years is quiet, elegant, spare and infinitely memorable.  If you want a real sense of the stark beauty of the southwest, this is where you will find it.  A book I will read again and again, for both the feel of the desert and the life (and death) of a man who was spiritual and human like us all.

 

Half-Broke Horses, by Jeannette Walls

Part novel, part biography of her grandmother, Walls followed her acclaimed Glass Castle with this equally vivid story. Set in west Texas and Arizona, Lily Casey Smith grew up on a poor cattle ranch where her father taught her to break and ride horses, brand cattle, and definitely not become the “lady” her mother wanted her to be.  After a scant education, she  became a teacher at one room schools throughout rural Arizona, usually losing her job because of her outspoken and straightforward ways.  She was a woman who was up to almost every challenge in her life, and there were plenty.  Most satisfying is the fact that the story ends when Lily’s daughter, Rose Mary, becomes Jeannette’s mother.  Thus this unique family history is beautifully rounded out, and we are richer for both stories.

 

High Tide in Tucson, by Barbara Kingsolver

Friends always raved about Kingsolver’s fiction, but my introduction to her writing was through her eclectic non-fiction essay collections such as this title and Small Wonders.  This one is my favorite, covering topics about gardening in her dry, compacted yard among cactus and dust, the ups and downs of promoting one of her books, Arizona’s Titan Missile silos, the delights of Phoenix’s famous Heard Museum of Native American arts and artifacts, and the NCAA playoffs relative to the Arizona Wildcats, to name a few.  Her mind wanders from one topic to another apparently seamlessly, and her self-deprecating humor is ever present. I swear I could feel the heat of the desert emanating from many of these pages.

 

Barefoot Heart, by Elva Trevino Hart

My mother put this tender and poignant book in my hands a few years ago, but insisted I give it back when finished.  She wanted to pass this along to others, and I am hoping she did.  A young hispanic girl grows up in 1950′s west Texas in a migrant farmer family, the youngest of six children. The family harvested year around, traveling  to Minnesota beet fields in the summer. Hart probably had more time to observe her family and their life, as she was often left alone at the side of the fields while her parents and older siblings harvested. The story is vividly told, with poetic yet unsentimental characterizations and sharp detail that has stayed with me over the years.

 

Desert Solitaire, by Edward Abbey

Often described as the “bad boy” or “extremist” in the early years of the environmental movement, Abbey is one of my favorite radicals.  All of his writings share characteristics of a luminous sense of place, outrage at political manipulations that affect environmental integrity, absolute devotion to the land of the great southwestern deserts, mountains and canyons, and strong affinity to Native American culture.  Abbey lived for three seasons in the desert at Moab, Utah as a park ranger in the 1960′s. First published in 1968, this is considered his strongest work. By turns fascinating, raucous, poetic and profane, his work is powerful and his message worth hearing again and again.

 

Red Sky at Morning, by Richard Bradford

Considered a classic coming of age novel, I had never read this until after we returned from Tucson.  Set in the 1940′s in the northern mountains of New Mexico, I was delighted that this story combined such disparate aspects of place, character and plot so well.  It has family drama, as Josh Arnold’s father goes off to war at the age of 40+, and he and his mother, a displaced southern lady, are packed off to their summer retreat for safety.  The characters are strong and well-developed: teen-aged school friends will remind you much of Salinger’s: smart, witty and off-beat teen-agers who are not afraid to buck convention.  Then the frosting: descriptions of isolated mountainous villages of northern New Mexico, where white and hispanic cultures mix and sometimes curdle, are described in rich photogenic detail.

 

 

I could use more laughs these days–it is a grey and dreary January, most of the island seems to have left for Hawaii, my Mom is ill in the hospital, and I could list a host of other complaints.  It is time to “Humor Me”, and there are any number of books that make me smile, resort to belly laughs, and even snorts.  Here are the ones that have stayed with me long after they were put back on the shelf.  Only one is new and still in hardback, but the rest available in paperback at your indie bookstore or  your local library.

 

Me Talk Pretty One Day, by David Sedaris

When I was critically ill a few years ago, a witty and irreverent friend gave me this.  What?!! It’s come to this? I thought. I had long before pegged Sedaris as overhyped, shallow, and not worthy of my precious reading time, but how wrong I was! Or, how right I was and this book filled the exact need I had at the time.  I would try any of his other writings after reading this group of his essays.  These are laugh-out-loud kind of funny, so careful where and when you engage with them.  His stories run the gamut from IQ tests to creating art to raising puppies, and almost always involve his eccentric, hilarious family.

 

 

A Short History of Tractors in Ukranian, by Marina Lewyecka

A classic family story familiar to anyone who has parents–I could relate     to this novel from page two, not only with knowing chuckles, but many “listen to this”, read-aloud moments.  A widowed Ukranian father decides to remarry a woman 50 years his junior, and his daughters turn hysterical, trying any and every scheme to break up the relationship. To add to the complexity, the sisters, who have had an award-winning sibling rivalry for many years, must try banding together to conquer their new common enemy.  The father, nearly oblivious to all but the cleavage of his new love, continues to work on his grand history of tractors and their contribution to world progress. Along the way, we are treated to excerpts from his book, which are indeed as quirky and delightful as the plots his daughters develop and try to execute along the way.

 

 

Motherless Brooklyn, by Jonathan Lethem

We have sold and sold and sold this book at Darvill’s for several years, and never had someone come back and wonder why they bought it.  It is the story of an unlikely small-time hood Lionel who works for a bigger but still-small-time mobster Frank Minna at his limousine service in (of course) Brooklyn. Lionel has Tourette’s Syndrome, which causes him to bark, yelp, count and rearrange the letters of words in the most unique ways, the result bringing all kinds of problems into his life.   The problems multiply when Frank and another friend of Lionel’s are killed; Lionel then feels compelled to find the killer.  Read this for the language alone, but the strong characters and whodunit plot add to the total joy and hilarity of this book.  A classic–in so many ways!

 

 

Where’d You Go, Bernadette, by Maria Semple

If I tried to describe the plot of this new novel, you would never believe it, so I will tell you that anyone who has ever been to, worked in, lived in or read about Seattle would likely love this rich satire.  Bernadette is a super-intellect, MacArthur Genius Grant architect and mother who reluctantly moves to Seattle when her husband gets an important job at Microsoft. The book is arranged partly in emails to and from various players in this oh-too-yuppie-techno-wizard Northwest culture, often told from the perspective of Bernadette’s precocious daughter Bee.  One of my favorite “characters” is the ultra-patient and competent “virtual assistant in India” to Bernadette, Manjula Kapoor, but even this paragon of seeming sanity goes off-track when it is discovered Bernadette’s identity and bank accounts have been stolen along the way. A brilliant satire, hilarious and outrageous tale.

 

A Walk in the Woods, by Bill Bryson

There is scarcely a Bryson book I have not read, but this was his funniest, in my opinion.  (Others vote for The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid, his memoir).  After living in England for 20 years, Bryson and his family move back to the states, which are very different from when he left. His urge to reacquaint himself with his homeland takes many forms.  One of the activities he pursues is to walk the 2,100 mile Appalachian Trail, but he choses the least-likely candidate to accompany him:  his out of shape, anxious buddy Stephen. In one angst-ridden incident after another, their mishap-laden adventures left me breathless with laughter. The book is usually shelved with travel literature or memoir, and is considered a “classic”, but I consider it a classic distinctly for the humor section.

 

 

The Selected Works of T.S. Spivet, by Reif Larsen

While not a belly laugh type of humor for the most part, this is one of the most engaging books I have read in years.  It is rich on many levels–illustrations by the author are abundant and quirky, just like the story.  A young cartography (!) prodigy from rural Montana submits his maps to the Smithsonian, and is selected for a prestigious prize.  No one at the Smithsonian knows he is only 12, and his parents are not told of his award, for fear they would not let him accept it.  He decides to jump the train and head for Washington, D. C. to present himself, and along the journey has to chart his own way as he has never had to do before.  There is no map to take him across the country, into the world of adults who are not his parents, and also take him back to his parents in a way he has never been.  I bought my own copy for the illustrations alone.  Poignant, funny, and highly original.

 

The Jeeves Omnibus, by P. G. Wodehouse

Any Wodehouse is hilarious, whether you ingest it via audio book, print, or the TV series (love the one with Hugh Laurie as Wooster).  I cannot even point to my favorite, for if I read one, I must continue with the next.  (much like chocolates or potato chips).  Wodehouse was a tremendously prolific writer, setting most of the Jeeves and Wooster novels around and after WWI.  The creative and laconic Jeeves, butler to the rather clueless and gaffe-prone Wooster, has been delighting people for decades, and I did not want to leave out this very witty English humor.  You may not have read Wodehouse (at all?) or for a while, and if you haven’t, it is great medicine for what may ail you.