Four years ago today, Phoebe and I met; we adopted each other, and the bond grows day by day. It was a bitterly cold Friday. Phoebe left the shelter wearing a red-and-white-striped wool sweater rescued by a staffer from a heap of castoff garments. Phoebe wore that same sweater again today, a bitterly cold Wednesday. What was the fate of the dog whose sweater became Phoebe's? We'll never know. We hope that dog is still with us, safe and warm, with a spiffy new sweater and someone to love who loves that dog more than anything in the world.
Dogs who end up in shelters need more protection than sweaters, of course. So Phoebe's message today is simple: please adopt and please support the agencies that assist homeless animals. Phoebe sent her annual donation this morning. Is there a better way to celebrate our good fortune, Phoebe and I wonder, than by helping other dogs and people unite?
It's been a busy day for Phoebe. Squirrel patrol, a tennis ball rescue made daring by the weight of leaves and twigs beneath which the lost was found, and a full complement of bookshop duties. She had her naps, too, which are such appealing events that I feel reinvigorated just by being in the same room with my snoozing friend.
The forecast calls for our cold day to turn into an even colder night. Phoebe and I will bake dog biscuits. Embraced by that comforting aroma -- it ranks with chocolate and baking bread in the pantheon of classic kitchen pleasure scents -- we'll curl up with our favorite pillows and fleece throws and commune, with each other and some of the books we love best. I'll read aloud to Phoebe. She'll doze on and off and wake to ask with a sweet nuzzle for another story. She'll wear that sweater she wore out of the shelter on our bedtime walk. When I tuck her in for the night, I'll thank her, for on this special day a family was born four years ago. I’ll thank her for being my dog.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Friday, December 11, 2009
The Gift of Book Care
Here's a thought for last-minute gift-giving for the book lover: it doesn't require shopping or wrapping or shipping, and it's right there at your fingertips. It's a gift of time and attention, and the recipients are not just people you care for but books that need care.
You may know someone whose books and shelves would benefit from a simple dusting. Whether that someone never thinks about it or never gets around to it, books deserve this most basic courtesy. And it's a courtesy that benefits the spaces those books live in, and everyone else who lives there, too. Maybe a friend or family member has spoken about wanting to reorganize their books, but can't decide on strict alphabetical order by author or shelving by topic. Offer to help with the tasks and decisions, or to undertake them on your own. Chances are your offer will be considered unusual if not outright unique. Revel in it! The work can be done at a leisurely pace, perhaps an hour or so every second Thursday evening or whatever suits all concerned. It's a grand opportunity for coffee and pastry or wine and cheese, catching up on the latest scuttlebutt or just shooting the breeze.
Can't imagine making such an offer? Have you ever walked a friend's dog? Gotten the mail or some groceries for a neighbor? Then helping someone take care of their books should be in your repertoire. It may take a little longer than those other acts of kindness, but since when does friendship come with a stopwatch?
It's a gift you can give yourself, too. And don't forget to reward yourself with a big bag of new books.
You may know someone whose books and shelves would benefit from a simple dusting. Whether that someone never thinks about it or never gets around to it, books deserve this most basic courtesy. And it's a courtesy that benefits the spaces those books live in, and everyone else who lives there, too. Maybe a friend or family member has spoken about wanting to reorganize their books, but can't decide on strict alphabetical order by author or shelving by topic. Offer to help with the tasks and decisions, or to undertake them on your own. Chances are your offer will be considered unusual if not outright unique. Revel in it! The work can be done at a leisurely pace, perhaps an hour or so every second Thursday evening or whatever suits all concerned. It's a grand opportunity for coffee and pastry or wine and cheese, catching up on the latest scuttlebutt or just shooting the breeze.
Can't imagine making such an offer? Have you ever walked a friend's dog? Gotten the mail or some groceries for a neighbor? Then helping someone take care of their books should be in your repertoire. It may take a little longer than those other acts of kindness, but since when does friendship come with a stopwatch?
It's a gift you can give yourself, too. And don't forget to reward yourself with a big bag of new books.
Monday, December 7, 2009
A Bookshop Dog's Journal: Part V
Phoebe has a suggestion for everyone who wonders what to give the dogs they love for the holidays: the simple gift of stories.
If you already read to your dog, you're on Phoebe's list of best humans ever. If you've never read to your dog, why not try it one day soon? Add it to that list of New Year's resolutions and trust your dog to keep the new bond it creates growing every time you two great friends, reader and listener, settle down for another chapter in the stories of your lives.
You've got everything you need. Your favorite cuddle venue is the ideal place to start. You'll find a few minutes to spare for a trial run, and who doesn't benefit from more private time with a pal? Worried that you'll feel silly? You can count on a dog's discretion; if you feel foolish your partner will make the foolishness just plain fun.
You can, of course, impart stories without literal reading. You already talk to your dog. So tell your dog a story, some anecdote from your youth or the mystery of this morning's missing car keys. Every dog's life can speak volumes, too, if you'll lend it your voice. Phoebe loves to hear me recount how she found Theodore, her toy lizard. And who doesn't enjoy pure fancy? Phoebe and the Carl Schurz Squirrels is an epic to which we add a fantastical chapter almost every day.
But what Phoebe prefers is formal reading. She seems to consider my books comparable to her tennis balls. We're both collectors, and we share what we cherish.
What to read? It doesn't have to be War and Peace and Puppies. Begin with the TV listings, the latest sports scores, or the kids' report cards. Aim for some of the classics of canine literature. But a page or two of that novel or memoir on your bedside table, or a holiday favorite, can get you going. One of the beauties of reading to your dog is that you can pick up any story anywhere, whenever it's convenient, and your audience will love you for it.
If you already read to your dog, you're on Phoebe's list of best humans ever. If you've never read to your dog, why not try it one day soon? Add it to that list of New Year's resolutions and trust your dog to keep the new bond it creates growing every time you two great friends, reader and listener, settle down for another chapter in the stories of your lives.
You've got everything you need. Your favorite cuddle venue is the ideal place to start. You'll find a few minutes to spare for a trial run, and who doesn't benefit from more private time with a pal? Worried that you'll feel silly? You can count on a dog's discretion; if you feel foolish your partner will make the foolishness just plain fun.
You can, of course, impart stories without literal reading. You already talk to your dog. So tell your dog a story, some anecdote from your youth or the mystery of this morning's missing car keys. Every dog's life can speak volumes, too, if you'll lend it your voice. Phoebe loves to hear me recount how she found Theodore, her toy lizard. And who doesn't enjoy pure fancy? Phoebe and the Carl Schurz Squirrels is an epic to which we add a fantastical chapter almost every day.
But what Phoebe prefers is formal reading. She seems to consider my books comparable to her tennis balls. We're both collectors, and we share what we cherish.
What to read? It doesn't have to be War and Peace and Puppies. Begin with the TV listings, the latest sports scores, or the kids' report cards. Aim for some of the classics of canine literature. But a page or two of that novel or memoir on your bedside table, or a holiday favorite, can get you going. One of the beauties of reading to your dog is that you can pick up any story anywhere, whenever it's convenient, and your audience will love you for it.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Shipping Books: Some Dog-Inspired Advice
Pack a book as if it's sentient.
Most of the books I pack are older books about members of the family Canidae, so I tend to use my dog brain and imagine that I'm settling an aging pooch into a safe and comfortable traveling case.
My point is this: If you're shipping books this holiday season, you probably want them to please their recipients. Getting carefully wrapped books to their destinations in pristine condition is part of the pleasure you're sending. So even if books aren't sentient, those who love them are. And book lovers notice and lament bumped corners and other rough-and-tumble wounds that books can sustain in transit.
Books travel best in boxes. "The book sits not on the bottom of the box but on resilient packing material: crumpled newspaper, packing pellets, layers of bubble wrap. As you look down into the carton at the wrapped book, can you see space (at least an inch, or three centimeters, is ideal) on all four sides? Once the book is resting on the packing material underneath it, it's time to tuck it in -- as you would tuck up a baby in its crib or a puppy in its basket, not with blankets or your old sweater but with crumpled newspaper or bubble wrap. When the box is closed, it should touch, not the wrapped book, but the packing material placed atop it."
After the carton is sealed, take another precaution. "Reinforce all carton edges with a heavy-duty sealing tape. Helping the carton keep its shape helps the book travel safely."
Tempted to ship in padded envelopes? Fine, but please take a few extra steps for the sake of those lovely books you've chosen. "Once the book is wrapped, cut cardboard slightly larger than the book... The cardboard must be clean and dry, thick and unbending. Place the book between the cardboard sheets, and secure them with tape... Now wrap the cardboard-secured book in another layer of wrapping, such as several sheets of newspaper. Try the envelope on for size, and if the wrapped book moves, take it out and wrap it again. Keep wrapping the cardboard-protected book until it fits snugly and does not move in the envelope."
When your parcels are ready to go, safeguard your shipping labels with clear, heavy-duty tape.
Gift suggestions at Dog Lovers Bookshop include our own guide to giving books good homes and long and happy lives: The Care and Feeding of Books: A Simple Repair Manual for Book Lovers, from which the quotations above are taken. The book is available in hardcover and paperback editions, and its authors, Dog Lovers Bookshop's owners, will be happy to inscribe copies with the personalized message of your choice. There are not only easy-to-follow instructions, but also some tales of the bookselling exploits of dachshunds Houdini and Rose. It was dogs, after all, who helped us learn how to take good care of books.
Most of the books I pack are older books about members of the family Canidae, so I tend to use my dog brain and imagine that I'm settling an aging pooch into a safe and comfortable traveling case.
My point is this: If you're shipping books this holiday season, you probably want them to please their recipients. Getting carefully wrapped books to their destinations in pristine condition is part of the pleasure you're sending. So even if books aren't sentient, those who love them are. And book lovers notice and lament bumped corners and other rough-and-tumble wounds that books can sustain in transit.
Books travel best in boxes. "The book sits not on the bottom of the box but on resilient packing material: crumpled newspaper, packing pellets, layers of bubble wrap. As you look down into the carton at the wrapped book, can you see space (at least an inch, or three centimeters, is ideal) on all four sides? Once the book is resting on the packing material underneath it, it's time to tuck it in -- as you would tuck up a baby in its crib or a puppy in its basket, not with blankets or your old sweater but with crumpled newspaper or bubble wrap. When the box is closed, it should touch, not the wrapped book, but the packing material placed atop it."
After the carton is sealed, take another precaution. "Reinforce all carton edges with a heavy-duty sealing tape. Helping the carton keep its shape helps the book travel safely."
Tempted to ship in padded envelopes? Fine, but please take a few extra steps for the sake of those lovely books you've chosen. "Once the book is wrapped, cut cardboard slightly larger than the book... The cardboard must be clean and dry, thick and unbending. Place the book between the cardboard sheets, and secure them with tape... Now wrap the cardboard-secured book in another layer of wrapping, such as several sheets of newspaper. Try the envelope on for size, and if the wrapped book moves, take it out and wrap it again. Keep wrapping the cardboard-protected book until it fits snugly and does not move in the envelope."
When your parcels are ready to go, safeguard your shipping labels with clear, heavy-duty tape.
Gift suggestions at Dog Lovers Bookshop include our own guide to giving books good homes and long and happy lives: The Care and Feeding of Books: A Simple Repair Manual for Book Lovers, from which the quotations above are taken. The book is available in hardcover and paperback editions, and its authors, Dog Lovers Bookshop's owners, will be happy to inscribe copies with the personalized message of your choice. There are not only easy-to-follow instructions, but also some tales of the bookselling exploits of dachshunds Houdini and Rose. It was dogs, after all, who helped us learn how to take good care of books.
Monday, November 30, 2009
A Bookshop Dog's Journal: Part IV
When you're a dog, bookselling isn't always a walk in the park. Unless you're Phoebe B. Dackel this past November.
Phoebe was busier than usual last month, in the office, at home, in the park she loves so much. It's not my imagination or holiday-season-onset fatigue. It's all there in her daily journal.
Each page lists her five walks, with departure times and weather conditions, where we go and how we get there and approximate mileage, what's said of or to Phoebe in the elevator and the lobby and beyond, our encounters with squirrels and other friends, our discoveries of lost balls. There are notes about her meals, her naps, her official staff dog duties, and her romps and games. Recent highlights from her social calendar include a very happy Thanksgiving and a long, lazy afternoon that our beloved Pomeranian friend Lola spent with us.
Inside the front cover of every half-year-long volume of Phoebe's journal are columns that wait for numbers to be added as each month ends: one for total park visits, another for balls found.
That first column for November 2009 shows a number that frankly astounds me, even though I'm always there at the other end of Phoebe's leash. This is the dog who, when she came to me from Dachshund Rescue and the city shelter, was afraid of the outside world, for whom it took, her journal records, almost three months of approaches to the park before Phoebe would venture inside, and when she did it was with the help of another dog who understood and gave Phoebe a nudge to the shoulder that I witnessed and much I had no ability to see, some guidance, some insights, something more helpful than all the reassurances I had been offering (or trying to), some of what only dogs can comprehend and share among themselves: a release from fear for Phoebe, and a reminder to me that dogs need dog life as much as human companionship. That helpful dog, whom we knew only by sight, gave Phoebe a freedom that has taken her not just into the park but far beyond. It was her last fear, vanquished.
During this past November's 30 days, the dog who was afraid of the park has visited it 62 times. A new personal monthly best for The Phoebster!
If the weather cooperates (not that we let it run our lives), we may be looking at a new annual record for park visits. Sounds like an exciting post for New Year's Eve.
Phoebe was busier than usual last month, in the office, at home, in the park she loves so much. It's not my imagination or holiday-season-onset fatigue. It's all there in her daily journal.
Each page lists her five walks, with departure times and weather conditions, where we go and how we get there and approximate mileage, what's said of or to Phoebe in the elevator and the lobby and beyond, our encounters with squirrels and other friends, our discoveries of lost balls. There are notes about her meals, her naps, her official staff dog duties, and her romps and games. Recent highlights from her social calendar include a very happy Thanksgiving and a long, lazy afternoon that our beloved Pomeranian friend Lola spent with us.
Inside the front cover of every half-year-long volume of Phoebe's journal are columns that wait for numbers to be added as each month ends: one for total park visits, another for balls found.
That first column for November 2009 shows a number that frankly astounds me, even though I'm always there at the other end of Phoebe's leash. This is the dog who, when she came to me from Dachshund Rescue and the city shelter, was afraid of the outside world, for whom it took, her journal records, almost three months of approaches to the park before Phoebe would venture inside, and when she did it was with the help of another dog who understood and gave Phoebe a nudge to the shoulder that I witnessed and much I had no ability to see, some guidance, some insights, something more helpful than all the reassurances I had been offering (or trying to), some of what only dogs can comprehend and share among themselves: a release from fear for Phoebe, and a reminder to me that dogs need dog life as much as human companionship. That helpful dog, whom we knew only by sight, gave Phoebe a freedom that has taken her not just into the park but far beyond. It was her last fear, vanquished.
During this past November's 30 days, the dog who was afraid of the park has visited it 62 times. A new personal monthly best for The Phoebster!
If the weather cooperates (not that we let it run our lives), we may be looking at a new annual record for park visits. Sounds like an exciting post for New Year's Eve.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Books and Dogs and Holidays
If there are inanimate gifts better than books, I've never received one. Dogs are the greatest gifts in my life, but none came to me wrapped and beribboned; we met, got acquainted, adopted each other, and became family. It's tempting to say that we meet books, conclude that we'll be happy together and take them into our homes and love them, but books can sit unattended on our shelves far longer than a dog can wait for meals and exercise, tummy rubs and conversation.
A dog shouldn't be given as a gift, especially as a surprise during the holidays. When someone you know wants a dog, give moral and logistical support: encourage adoption from breed rescue groups and shelters, offer to join the dog-seeker on shelter visits or other relevant expeditions (a first-time shopper for pet supplies usually needs backup), remember to ask the questions the dog-enamored may forget when under the spell of a prospective new friend. The list goes on, of course, and you can wrap it all up with a book or two about dogs. Here the surprise factor is appropriate, the opportunities for pleasure and satisfaction almost as limitless as a dog's devotion. Dogs are not good impulse buys; books, however, are among the best.
You can give the gift of dog books to everyone you know (does anyone who wouldn't welcome a book about dogs deserve a gift?). One of the lessons I learned as a bookseller specializing in dog literature was that people want books about dogs even when they don't have dogs, can't have dogs for heartless-landlord-from-hell or nonmalicious reasons, or don't even want dogs. Maybe they long for the dog stories they read as children for their grandkids. Maybe they read behavior and training books the way some people who don't cook read cookbooks. They want every volume that contains a single mention of the breed of their dreams, the dog they'll live with when life goes right. Then there are the people with dogs at the heart of their lives. There's a lot out there for them to read.
The practicalities and hazards of getting a puppy delivered anywhere on the planet in time for the holidays should be enough to send you bookward. Books travel well, if well packed for their journeys. In The Care and Feeding of Books Old and New: A Simple Repair Manual for Book Lovers, I devoted several pages to packing and shipping advice, and in the spirit of holiday book-giving, will share some of these important pointers in a post this coming Thursday.
A dog shouldn't be given as a gift, especially as a surprise during the holidays. When someone you know wants a dog, give moral and logistical support: encourage adoption from breed rescue groups and shelters, offer to join the dog-seeker on shelter visits or other relevant expeditions (a first-time shopper for pet supplies usually needs backup), remember to ask the questions the dog-enamored may forget when under the spell of a prospective new friend. The list goes on, of course, and you can wrap it all up with a book or two about dogs. Here the surprise factor is appropriate, the opportunities for pleasure and satisfaction almost as limitless as a dog's devotion. Dogs are not good impulse buys; books, however, are among the best.
You can give the gift of dog books to everyone you know (does anyone who wouldn't welcome a book about dogs deserve a gift?). One of the lessons I learned as a bookseller specializing in dog literature was that people want books about dogs even when they don't have dogs, can't have dogs for heartless-landlord-from-hell or nonmalicious reasons, or don't even want dogs. Maybe they long for the dog stories they read as children for their grandkids. Maybe they read behavior and training books the way some people who don't cook read cookbooks. They want every volume that contains a single mention of the breed of their dreams, the dog they'll live with when life goes right. Then there are the people with dogs at the heart of their lives. There's a lot out there for them to read.
The practicalities and hazards of getting a puppy delivered anywhere on the planet in time for the holidays should be enough to send you bookward. Books travel well, if well packed for their journeys. In The Care and Feeding of Books Old and New: A Simple Repair Manual for Book Lovers, I devoted several pages to packing and shipping advice, and in the spirit of holiday book-giving, will share some of these important pointers in a post this coming Thursday.
Monday, October 5, 2009
A Bookshop Dog's Journal: Part III
Do you read to your dog? If you don't, Phoebe B. Dackel would like a word with you.
"You probably know of the good work dogs do with kids who read to us. It's therapeutic. The youngsters gain confidence and benefit in countless other ways from the presence of the canine listener, who is unfailingly described as nonjudgmental (and who doesn't need some of that now and then). Maybe you're not a kid with reading problems. Maybe you don't lack confidence. I'll bet you a week's worth of Margot's homemade dog biscuits that something's bugging you. Try some of the salve we reader-dogs apply to those kids. Read to us!
"You may be familiar with some of the studies that report how many human-language words we dogs recognize and, when it suits us, respond to as you intend us to. Kudos to the researchers, and may they all keep -- or develop -- a sense of humor. We dogs aren't dependent on your words, but we add them to our repertoire because we love you and we're curious. You bring us into your homes, and many homes are as full of words as books are. Bring us into more of your world. When you read to us we hear more than words. We know how you feel about them, how those words affect you. The more we know about you, the better dogs we can be.
"Reading together is another bridge between us. We love your voices, which convey more than words and their messages. Share your discoveries and puzzlements. Introduce us to your best book friends, the characters that your voices embody so well we just might be able to sniff them off the shelves if you misplace the books they live in. We love your laughter. If you're moved to tears, we'll comfort you. When you come to the scary parts, we'll reassure you. If it's a scary scary story, we can walk it off later and celebrate our escape from vampires or the stock market report with a treat or a romp.
"Can't even step onto the bridge, much less reach the other side? Think of reading to dogs as a new form of entertainment, a new game, a novelty. The television listings will do for starters. Watch our expressions and body language. You may find your read-to dog's reactions, and your responses to those reactions, add to the pleasure of reading. From the pleasure of reading, don't you derive solace, maybe a smile or two, some insight, a lot of super-escapism? Share these with the dogs who love you.
"My reactions to Margot's reading are noted in my journal. It warms this hound's heart to see how she's capable of learning from those observations. We get closer every time we curl up with a book.
"I wonder what we'll read today? I'll let you know."
"You probably know of the good work dogs do with kids who read to us. It's therapeutic. The youngsters gain confidence and benefit in countless other ways from the presence of the canine listener, who is unfailingly described as nonjudgmental (and who doesn't need some of that now and then). Maybe you're not a kid with reading problems. Maybe you don't lack confidence. I'll bet you a week's worth of Margot's homemade dog biscuits that something's bugging you. Try some of the salve we reader-dogs apply to those kids. Read to us!
"You may be familiar with some of the studies that report how many human-language words we dogs recognize and, when it suits us, respond to as you intend us to. Kudos to the researchers, and may they all keep -- or develop -- a sense of humor. We dogs aren't dependent on your words, but we add them to our repertoire because we love you and we're curious. You bring us into your homes, and many homes are as full of words as books are. Bring us into more of your world. When you read to us we hear more than words. We know how you feel about them, how those words affect you. The more we know about you, the better dogs we can be.
"Reading together is another bridge between us. We love your voices, which convey more than words and their messages. Share your discoveries and puzzlements. Introduce us to your best book friends, the characters that your voices embody so well we just might be able to sniff them off the shelves if you misplace the books they live in. We love your laughter. If you're moved to tears, we'll comfort you. When you come to the scary parts, we'll reassure you. If it's a scary scary story, we can walk it off later and celebrate our escape from vampires or the stock market report with a treat or a romp.
"Can't even step onto the bridge, much less reach the other side? Think of reading to dogs as a new form of entertainment, a new game, a novelty. The television listings will do for starters. Watch our expressions and body language. You may find your read-to dog's reactions, and your responses to those reactions, add to the pleasure of reading. From the pleasure of reading, don't you derive solace, maybe a smile or two, some insight, a lot of super-escapism? Share these with the dogs who love you.
"My reactions to Margot's reading are noted in my journal. It warms this hound's heart to see how she's capable of learning from those observations. We get closer every time we curl up with a book.
"I wonder what we'll read today? I'll let you know."
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