Coop the Great
Coop the Great
With every step, my joints ached. The burrs chafed my belly. Sharp rocks jutted from the ground. I dodged some but couldn’t avoid others. Old wounds reopened. Fresh ones appeared. My torn pads bled again.
I wove between shadowy trees, through a haze growing thicker. When I couldn’t see, I tapped into instinct. When hope dwindled, I kept the end goal in sight. Mike, Zach, Emma – they needed me.
Then, the inevitable happened. I tripped over a root. The smoke was so heavy that I didn’t see it until it was too late. I stumbled and fell. A jolt of pain shot up my leg, then for a moment, I felt nothing.
I must have blacked out. Probably for just a second. Long enough anyways.
I have heard people say that when you are about to die, scenes from your life flicker by. In that moment it happened to me. It was like watching a slide show, only the images flashed by so quickly that I couldn’t make out the pictures. They were blurred and out of focus. Then the slide show jerked to a sudden stop. A frame froze. The blurriness lifted. I saw Buck, Sparky, and the others at Derby. I saw Ruth. Then, I saw Mike.
Mike, a widower who appears to be suffering from advanced heart disease, rescues an aging and arthritic dachshund named Cooper from a shelter. Just as the two are beginning to bond, Mike’s grandchildren, Emma and Zach, move in for an extended stay in order to hide from their abusive father. When it becomes clear that Dad is stalking the kids, Mike agrees to drive everyone to the new (and secret) location that his daughter has arranged for her family. Predictably, the plan goes awry, resulting in a car accident that leaves the humans hurt and stranded, unable to walk to their destination. Luckily, the disabled dachshund has been absorbing all the tales of canine valor that Mike has been reading aloud to him and is determined to find Mike’s daughter and rescue his stranded friends.
Verstraete’s novel suffers from stereotyped characters (the kindly, all-knowing grandfather; the sullen teen; the pony-tail sporting abusive dad), an overly complicated plot, and a point of view that focuses more on adult concerns than those of child readers. (“Dogs are like property owners. We pee to mark our boundaries and claim our territory.”) Pacing is also an issue. Much of the story occurs in short vignettes that feature Mike sharing stories of heroic dogs (including Balto, Hatchiko, Salty, and celestial canines such as Sirius) with Coop. Then, in the last thirty pages Coop successfully “reads” a map (so he will know how to get to Jess’s new house), outsmarts out-of-season hunters and their vicious dog, navigates a forest fire, successfully locates Jess, and directs her to the injured by barking directions in the front seat of her car. Yes, Coop rescues his people, but Mike’s heart does not survive the ordeal. And while this may not fit Gordon Korman’s strict definition of a “dead dog book” (No More Dead Dogs), it’s close enough.
Kay Weisman, former youth services librarian at West Vancouver Memorial Library, also reviews for Booklist.