Dr. Doolittle and Dr. Seuss together should have conditioned the market to suspicion of such volumes as this with its crude whimsy. But unfortunately it belongs to that horde of books imposed on children by pun-addicted adults. Dr. Owl sits in judgment, solving successive problems of small interest to children. The short unhappy bridegroom with the tall bride is fitted with stilts; the skunk is sent to chase Japanese beatles; for the housewrecking Junior kangaroo whose mother studied modern psychology a spanking is prescribed. The book seems trite, studded with cliches, excess adjectives, silly anthropomorphism. The illustrations are colorful -- but poorly composed, not as direct as his Yussuf the Ostrich, the black and whites seem less harsh, more amusing. For the tired uncle trade.