FLAWED DOGS

By Berkeley Breathed

(Little, Brown and Company, 2003)

Remember the infamous 1994 Westminster Best in Show where chief judge Heidy Strüdelberg caused a riot after recognizing a three-legged wiener dog who’d once been used for lab experiments? Well, I don’t either, but Berkeley Breathed says it happened and I’ll go with it.

Following the incident, Ms. Strüdelberg retreated to a grain elevator in Piddleton, Vermont, converting it into the Last Chance Dog Pound, a refuge for the most difficult to adopt pooches, ones that fail to meet the perfect breed images of typical pet perusers.

Flawed Dogs is the fictitious 2004 Leftovers Catalogue, featuring truly unique dogs and poems that explain how they fell out of favor. I have previously featured gifted cartoonist Breathed’s The Last Basselope here. Flawed Dogs will not be for everyone, but for some it will be a riotous read.

Case in point: A few years ago while I was principal, a young student at the school stopped attending. All of a sudden, he couldn’t separate from his mother. I was tasked with getting him back in school. It began with short visits in the family car in the school parking lot. In time, I convinced him to stop into my office each day. We checked the Vancouver Canucks’ website and chatted about the last game, the next game and key stats. And then he noticed Flawed Dogs which rested on an upper shelf since I felt one picture wasn’t necessarily appropriate for young readers. (Lulu, an unattractive dog, is accessorized to no avail with a bonnet, two pairs of red high heels and a low-cut sweater stuffed with a couple of tennis balls.) I skipped that page, but read the rest of the book. The boy roared with laughter at gassy Pete whose reaction to kibble sent building blocks and the baby a-tumblin’, iBoo the techno pup (complete with iPoo) and Jeeves the basset hound whose jowls sent him airborne on windy days. Boy humor, perfectly illustrated by Breathed. The student’s laughter got me a gigglin’ and it took half an hour to get through the book while also interrupting all office activity.

He begged me to read the book over and over. It became a key motivator in getting him back into the school and eventually back into class. Flawed Dogs is a fine example of the potency of a picture book when matched with the right reader.

Seek out the book, share it with a group, especially boys who like that kind of humor. I cannot quibble with the content when the reaction is one of utter joy.

THE RAFT

By Jim LaMarche

(HarperCollins, 2000)

This is a quiet summer story that will capture a boy’s imagination during the dog days of August. Inspired by his own childhood at the cottage, Jim LaMarche’s The Raft begins with Nicky sulking in the car as his father drives to Nicky’s grandmother’s riverside cottage where the boy will spend the summer. Nicky laments, “There’s nobody to play with. She doesn’t even have a TV.”

One day when fishing from a dock, Nicky eyes an object drifting down the river. It floats right to the dock. He sees animal drawings all over the raft’s surface. Over the course of the summer, this raft becomes Nicky’s hangout and his transport, sometimes with Grandma, sometimes without.

There is something magical about this raft, its art or both. Animals of all kinds are drawn to it, allowing Nicky to observe them and, in time, draw them.

For teachers, this book is a springboard to a writing brainstorming session based on the oft-stated advice, Write what you know. The author’s note at the beginning of the book makes clear that the story stems from LaMarche’s own experiences. A class can reflect on the note and the story and speculate as to what parts are real and what parts are enhanced or wholly imagined. Students can then take some of their own memories and change them from journal entries to fiction by adding a few What If twists.

LaMarche’s paintings are exquisite, with golden glows of sun and sand and murky greens of river and trees. Flip through and study Nicky’s face, transforming from bored and full of despair on his first unsuccessful fishing venture to alive and focused as he sketches a crane that lands on the raft.

At times, the animal attraction to the raft seems overdone, with Nicky and the raft comparing to Snow White and her ability to engage with critters of the woods. Still, The Raft will inspire a boy to long for a trip to a river or lake, alert to observe and interact with natural surroundings. Every child should be so lucky to be in the moment and forget all about TVs, computers and the latest game gadgets.

NOT A BOX

By Antoinette Portis

(HarperCollins Children's Books, 2007)

I love toys. When children walk into my principal's office, they notice two things: (1) kids' books, and (2) toys. In the toy department, I stock the classics: Slinky, Magic 8-Ball, wind-up critters. But I've overlooked an even more popular classic, one that doesn't require navigating your way through PlayStation gadgetry and Transformer movie tie-ins at the local Toys "R" Us. Get your hands on a large cardboard box--large enough to climb in--and watch the fun begin.

This picture book is an ode to the lowly cardboard box, cleverly designed with that familiar drab brown for the cover. (Hey, Benjamin Moore, there's a new paint color for you: ooh, Box Brown.) The title appears in simple red letters along with a "NET WT." stat on the front and a "THIS SIDE UP" on the sparse back cover.

The simplicity continues inside the book, with respect to both text and drawings. The unimaginative narrator's questions (e.g., "Why are you sitting in a box?") are typed on the left page while a simple black-outlined bunny figure literally assumes the position on the otherwise blank right side. Turn the page and bright yellow and red wash over the spread as bunny's imaginative play is revealed.

Life really can be that simple. This book will make you smile and hopefully reignite some of that wonder in the adult mind.

Anybody around here just purchase a new refrigerator? How about I take that box off your hands...

I'D REALLY LIKE TO EAT A CHILD

Written by Sylviane Donnio

Illustrated by Dorothee de Monfreid

(Random House, 2007)


Sometimes a book's title is too perfect. When I discovered this book on a shelf in a toy store in Seattle, I knew it would make a most amusing addition to the collection I keep in the principal's office. (Runner up that day: Monsters Eat Whiny Children. Oh, how I'd love to meet the store's buyer!)

One clever young office visitor spotted the book and fought unsuccessfully to repress his grin. It was a command reading.


Achilles the crocodile is seemingly content to feast on bananas and the occasional chocolate cake until one day he stages a hunger strike. He wants to eat a child; nothing else will do. Mama and Papa Crocodile are distraught as their weakening offspring cannot be swayed. As they console one another, Achilles sneaks off to the river for a swim. Lo and behold, he spots a child! Dinner! Suffice it to say the hunt doesn't go as planned.


This amusing book provides an inventive way of supporting picky eaters. More than that, it's just plain fun. How can it not become a repeated read?