I LOVE VINCENT

A guide dog describes how they assist their “best friend,” Vincent.

Scout, a black, googly-eyed pup, matter-of-factly explains that Vincent can’t see, so they “go everywhere together.” Vincent’s commands direct the pair to “all [their] favorite places,” including the park and a restaurant, while Scout ensures the streets are clear to cross. Noting that “being a guide is a big responsibility,” Scout explains that when in their harness, they can’t play or interact with others. But at the park, a double-page spread depicts a spirited game of fetch; an unharnessed Scout bounds across the pages, appearing to multiply as Vincent throws the stick “again / and again / and again” until the text fades with repetition. Once home, Scout and Vincent—who both have “excellent hearing”—snuggle and listen to records, their blissful expressions confirming Scout’s declaration: “I love Vincent and Vincent loves me!” Ljungkvist’s crisp, geometric illustrations add texture, but their busy colors and patterns may be visually taxing for some readers. A Scout’s-eye view of pedestrians’ pant legs is a forest of stripes, plaids, spirals, and more. Vincent’s pink plaid trousers compete with a purple-checked couch and pink-checkered tablecloth; red trees blend into a green background. Unfortunately, the clash of patterns extends to Vincent’s clothing, which risks implying that blind people can’t dress themselves—a potentially jarring note in an otherwise informative, upbeat portrayal of a guide dog team. Vincent presents White.

Sweet, albeit somewhat visually overwhelming.