I log into Amazon.com in search of a book. For the record, I ordinarily gravitate toward some kind of crime novel. I have helped Kay Scarpetta via Patricia Cornwell solve some pretty complicated mysteries, and often feel like I’m actually in Patterson’s women’s ‘murder club’.
But this time I saw a book cover with a dog on it, and I snatched it up. “The Art of Racing in the Rain” by Garth Stein was incredible. And I hated it. Really. Hated. It.
There is something wrong with me. I can read about people being murdered and frantically turn page after page in a quest for the killer, but let a dog suffer and I’m a mess. Throw in the fact that the book is narrated by Enzo, the dog, (who is one fine hound but doesn’t hold a candle to my Libby), and I couldn’t even see to read ½ the time because big ole’ tears kept welling up in my eyes.
Enzo has a whole lot to teach readers about being human. And about fears and loving someone with cancer and hope and champions. And that zebras are evil.
Read this book with a box of Kleenex and thank me later. But please note — this book isn’t for everyone… Libby and Gracie both gave “The Art of Racing in the Rain” poor reviews accompanied by a 1 of 5 star ranking.
