THE OUTSIDE DOG

Her grandpa is adamant—Marisol may not have a dog, even though there are numerous strays on their Puerto Rican hillside; dogs have ``fleas and ticks and who knows what.'' Marisol doesn't complain, but bit by ingenuous bit she negotiates. This particularly appealing pooch, she alleges, has no fleas, so he can be petted. Soon the dog has a name, while permission to give him scraps leads inevitably to the purchase of dog food. When ``Pancho'' goes missing, Grandpa's concern equals Marisol's; and in the end, when Grandpa makes one last decree—Pancho, now firmly established, is to be an outside dog, he says—readers will guess it will endure no longer than his others. The naturally cadenced story includes a few Spanish words, nicely defined in context and in a pronouncing glossary. Plecas's expressive, simply rendered illustrations are in the same amiable spirit as the text. Pancho's insinuation into this affectionate family of two is charming. (Easy reader. 4-8)