Review: Dog Is My Co-Pilot

Dog Is My Co-Pilot.

As I’ve said before, I’m not one who likes to read sappy stories about dogs. This is why I don’t watch dog movies. The dogs are always exceedingly and supernaturally noble and then they always get killed in the end. So over that.

I like stories about real life–which is why this collection of essays about living with dogs was perfect for me. Dog Is My Co-Pilot is a curated series of memoir-like writings by respected authors, pulled together by the editors of The Bark magazine.

Many of the stories were very funny. Many of the stories were very sad. Almost all of them (with a few exceptions, namely Elizabeth Marshall Thomas’ story and Jon Katz’s and the super-dramatic New Age guy) were great. The essays successfully avoided the sappiness that so often permeates dog-human narratives.

Some of my favorites: I loved the essays by the wonderful poets Maxine Kumin and Mark Doty. My husband is a poet and has always encouraged me to read more poetry. You can imagine my delight when I learned that such well-respected poets like Kumin and Doty were also avid dog lovers. Kumin’s essay “Mutts” is a sweet and reflective essay on the dogs that have passed in and out of her life, particularly on her New England farm. “Accident,” by Doty, is a heartbreaking story about loss and grief, connected to both his dog and his partner.

Another essay that was very moving to me was “Sit. Stay. Heal.” by Lee Forgotson, written in the aftermath of 9/11. Forgotson was living in New York at the time, just a few blocks from the World Trade Center, and wrote this essay describing her fear and depression in the months following the terrorist attacks. She was holed up alone in her apartment with her dog, waiting for her husband, a broadcast news anchor, to come home. The essay ends with this heart-rending moment: Forgotson, her husband, and their dog go out to eat. The dog is tied to a table and wanders off slightly to sniff a young man at a nearby table. When Forgotson looks back in a moment, the man is on his knees with his arms around her dog, weeping. It’s a touching and beautiful story of that gift animals can give us that no people can.

Regardless of your thoughts on over-emotionality, this is a collection of essays that is sure to make you feel the whole range of emotions that we feel with dogs: Joy, elation, frustration, rage, sympathy, grace, and redemption. Just to name a few. I recommend this collection very highly and I’m thankful I was able to find a copy myself.

Review: Shaggy Muses

Shaggy Muses, by Maureen Adams

This book sounded like the perfect diversion from training and behavior books. I was an English major and wrote a honors thesis on Virginia Woolf and had previously loved Woolf’s “biography” of Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s spaniel, Flush. I love reading about women writers–and women writers plus their dogs? What’s not to love? In Shaggy Muses, psychologist Maureen Adams looks at five great women authors and explores their complex and beautiful relationships with their dogs.

Adams discusses the relationships between Elizabeth Barrett Browning and Flush, the much-beloved cocker spaniel; Emily Bronte and her mastiff, Keeper; Emily Dickinson and her sweet Newfoundland, Carlo; Edith Wharton and her various toy breeds, mostly Pekingese; and Virginia Woolf and her various dogs, especially the spaniel Pinka, featured on the cover of this book. (Pinka served as her role model for the character of Flush when Woolf was writing Flush’s biography.)

I found that the common theme of this book was this: Dogs helped these women through grief and loneliness. The life of a woman artist is rarely cheery, especially if you had the misfortune of being a woman artist in the 19th and early 20th centuries. The companionship of a dog, according to Adams, helped these women come out of their shells.

My only complaint with the book is through no fault of Adams’. Rather, it is difficult to know much about some of these women, especially the famously mysterious Emily Bronte, without speculation. Occasionally, I felt like Adams overstepped her bounds as an objective researcher, but she is a psychologist, so I suppose she can’t be blamed.

There are many beautiful and touching comments from these writers about their dogs, many of which I plan to feature here in the weeks to come. So, keep your eyes peeled. Overall, I’d recommend this book as a light and interesting overview of the ways in which dogs have comforted and cheered some of the world’s most gifted artists.

In the world of smell

Why, hello there. Source: Liveinternet.ru

“The greatest poets in the world have smelt nothing but roses on the one hand, and dung on the other. The infinite gradations that lie between are unrecorded. Yet it was in the world of smell that Flush mostly lived. Love was chiefly smell; form and colour were smell; music and architecture, law, politics, and science were smell. To him religion itself was smell. To describe his simplest experience with the daily chop or biscuit is beyond our power.”

Flush, a Biography, Virginia Woolf