MY LIFE IN DOG YEARS

Pugh shares a lifetime of lessons learned from the pups she has parented and loved.

When the author was a child, her father brought home a scrawny, medium-sized stray dog the family named Tippy. As it turned out, Tippy was a runner, and after one of her forays, she returned home pregnant. Scrappy was the one pup in her litter that Pugh convinced her mother to keep. Unfortunately, when the author was 12 years old, her parents separated—she and her mother moved to an apartment in San Francisco, and Scrappy was soon given away. But Pugh’s love affair with dogs had become ingrained, though it would be many years before she adopted another one. In her early 20s, divorced and with a young daughter, Pugh met and married her second husband, Bob. It was time for a new pup. Not all of the adoptions went well; there were a couple of biters returned to their previous residences, and one dog was killed by a car. Finally, they found a keeper, Chessa. Years after Chessa’s death, as the author’s marriage began to dissolve, she discovered Henry through Poodle Rescue. A large and majestic white beauty, he had been returned three times for biting. Without a second thought, Pugh stepped right up to the plate—he was just the challenge she needed (Henry was indeed a biter, but with the help of a trainer, he began to shine). She has not been without a dog since. From the outset, the narrative is pleasantly engaging, but with the arrival of Henry the book grows into a passionate memoir, filled with often funny vignettes depicting Henry’s antics and those of the dogs that followed him. Pugh’s articulate prose is informative and witty, loaded with sarcasm and self-deprecating humor: “I used to say Henry thought I was the girlfriend of the leader of the pack. If he’d had a credit card, he would’ve ordered me a box of chocolates and a bouquet of roses.” Appreciation of her many pups’ unique personalities and talents pour lovingly from each page.

Charming, poignant, and amusing, with a plethora of memorable canines.