Okay, people. Do not judge me on the books that I read when I was a kid. I don't judge you on your Barbie/GI Joe collection (You can say that you only collected one, but you know that you stole the others from your sibling's room to make them make out) and you don't judge me on my childhood books. Having said that, this is one of those books that I couldn't get enough of when I was younger... and I have no idea why.
Some of them stuck with me. I still love to read my Beverly Cleary, Gordan Korman, Cynthia Voigt, Betsy Byars, CS Adler, Avi, and multitudes of other authors that are not only enjoyable to read, but stand the test of time as good stories and contributions to (children's) literature. But occasionally I pick up one of my childhood favorites, and just can't figure out what I ever saw in these things. This one, especially... see, this is one of those books that you would find in your church library when you were a kid. It's full of lots of yummy animal stories that also teach you a lesson about God. You may remember that I mentioned something about books teaching you lessons and me not liking that- don't misread me. I said I hate it when they try to sneak in a message in the midst of the story. These people just hand you your Bible verse and explain what lesson the story was trying to teach... nothing subtle about it. So something about me is that I love it when I read books that have lots of little stories in them. I even read old school readers because I love that I don't have to have a long attention span. So this book is right up my alley.
The funny thing is, I remember reading this book a lot. But I also, when I looked at it, felt this strange sense of dread, like I didn't really like it. (I do that a lot and just read anyway.) So that's what I did this time... picked it up and forged ahead.
The first couple stories were what I remember liking. Fun, true stories about wonderful animals, how they touched our lives and even saved us from evils in the world. Then, we reach a story called "dumb dog" about how a kid didn't obey his parents, hung out with a boy they told him not to, and consequently his dog ended up running out into the road. And this from page 72: "Prince lifted his head feebly, then dropped it on the ground- dead!"
What the heck?! What kind of writing is this? Obey your parents, kids, or you'll be responsible for the death of beloved animals everywhere? How ridiculous! The next story is about a poor girl whose parents can't afford a pet, so of course a stray cat "adopts" them randomly... the only significant thinga bout this story (fictional) is that the pictures in this story are the only ones depicting people of color. The ones who live in the ghetto. Nice. We then follow a vet through his paces where the sweetest description you ever heard about putting a dog to sleep just oozes off the pages... this is getting tedious. My personal favorite, however, is one of the last stories in the book. It's about a "missionary" family who lives on an island in the middle of a Pennsylvania river. One night the ice on the river breaks and because of the severity of the winter and the flow of the current, the family has to bravely climb over the ice in the dark of night to the safety of shore. (Yes, this is fictional.) There are mountains, valleys, sheer walls, and giant holes in the ice. Of course the only thing that saves them is their faithful pooch, who despite frozen feet keeps turning back to guide them one by one to safety. Awww. How amazing. But the reason this story is of note is because the father, in his first speech, says, "Vell, little one, you must go up to bed now." Vell, I don't know about you, but if I haf trouble saying "vell" I vill also stumble over "vun", as in "little vun," and I vill also haf a problem saying many otter vords, such as "vill," "vait," "ven," and "vere"- all vords that Vater seems to haf no problem at all saying correctly. Now, I realize just how snobby I am being here. This is very nitpicky and rude to this poor author who is trying to teach us something about God. (By the way, it is that "I will (or vill) guide thee with mine eye." A very good lesson, except I kept thinking as I read that- over and over- "I spy with my little eye...") Anyway, there's a lesson in here so I shoudln't be poking fun. But the father speaks with perfectly normal accent and perfectly normal w's except for about three words, in three separate incidents over 12 pages, so it really sticks out as funny when he says, "vell, little one" and only has an accent on half of the phonetic w's. Then we go for about 8 pages, and Zeke (the dog) "vonts to take the cow across." Noble Zeke. Of course he can't save the cow, it's too dangerous, but it doesn't matter, because the drama of the moment is lost as we picture Wierd Al Yankovich singing "Amish Paradise" and pausing to intone in Father's voice, "He vonts to take the cow across." Okay, so we keep reading... knowing that there is a good lesson coming out here somewhere, and everybody is safely across the ice on the shore. Wait! Zeke! Where are you going? Zeke runs back out on the ice towards the island (which, by the way is completely destroyed along with everything on it- house, barn, COW), and disappears into the night. And the story ends with, "Papa's voice was sad and deep. 'He vonts to save the cow too.' " And... we're done.
WHAT THE CRAP! Are you KIDDING ME? This author makes up a story about some heroic dog who leads his family to happily ever after, then kills himself over some cow, and THAT'S how we end? What happens to Zeke? Where's the bloody cow? Poor Zeke's paws were crusted with ice and he could barely hang on to the churning piles as they were swept down the river, and we're going to send him out with a depressed bad accent? I mean, come on. That's no way to end a story that is supposed to teach us about how God loves us and will keep us safe. Or, I guess it's a story about how God doesn't give a rip about those animals that he gave us for us to lord our dominion over and send off to their imminent dooms- send off with a bad accent, to boot? No, I'm sorry, now I remember why I don't like to read this book.
But believe it or not, I'm keeping it. As an adult, this is really funny to read. It's such a hodgepodge of feel-good/lessons from above/ridiculous stories, and it's totally amusing to remember that this is the kind of book we used to use to teach our kids lessons about God. (Yes, I was that kid. And I'm sure I learned my lesson when I wasn't nauseated by all the dead pets. There were quite a few more, by the way.) And as a kid, I can see how it could serve a purpose- kids aren't ridiculously snobby like me and won't pick apart weird things like accents or complain that the author needlessly sacrificed a dog to prove their point.
Well, when I was a kid, I did... but that's beside the point. I can't help it that my elitism started at a young age...
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