Wherever I go, I always get the sense that someone is following me…
(Truthfully, I like having such a sweet dog who likes to keep constant tabs on me. This might annoy some people, but I love it. Yes, even when she tries to squeeze herself into our tiny bathroom with me. And all this from a dog who would formerly hide from us in corners of the house! She is such a gem. I can’t help it; I like to gush about her sometimes. It always makes my day to remember how far she’s come.)
I read a selection from Pack of Two in the wonderful anthology, Dog Is My Co-Pilot several months ago. I liked the late Caroline Knapp’s gently humorous and honest style. In that excerpt, she talks about the prejudice that a single woman with a dog faces over a single man with a dog. I don’t have the quote in front of me, but the jist of her argument is: People watch a single man playing with his dog in the park and think, “That’s so sweet. Look at them having a great time together.” But people watch a single woman with her dog and think, “Poor lonely woman. She is projecting on that dog. She must really want a baby.” Kind of funny, but true! The injustice!
Anyway. I was happy to find a copy of Knapp’s full book, Pack of Two, which tells the story of her breakup with two significant relationships: Her long-time boyfriend and alcohol. Knapp decides to make a better life for herself as a single woman. On a whim, she adopts a sweet and wolfish-looking German shepherd mix, whom she calls Lucille.
Lucille quickly becomes the center of Knapp’s entire universe. The rest of the book is split into meditative chapters about the profound emotional roles that dogs play in our lives. This is primarily a book about a woman’s deep and ineffable bond with her dog. While Knapp does mention a few men, it is a book by, for, and about crazy dog ladies.
Knapp is a skillful writer and the book was enjoyable to me. I also identify as a Crazy Dog Lady and found myself nodding along with many of her points. My only reservation with the book is that a lot of it comes across as Knapp trying to make excuses for her undying attachment to her dog. She writes as if she needed to apologize or compensate for something. Clearly, she has faced judgment from a lot of people because of her unwavering devotion to her dog, and she writes about that, but she doesn’t seem to have been able to get over it quite yet. It’s kind of a small complaint, because I really did enjoy this book, but it just left me hoping that Knapp found a place of contentment with herself and with her love for Lucille.