AND A DOG CALLED FIG

A dog-loving novelist, poet, and memoirist adopts an exuberant puppy.

One winter, British-born Canadian writer Humphreys kept a journal recounting her life with Fig, her third vizsla in the last 22 years. Traditionally the hunting and companion dogs of Hungarian aristocrats, the smooth-haired vizslas, writes the author, “are the only dogs without an odour. They are athletic and extremely bonded to their humans. Vizslas are intelligent and adapt well to new situations and places. Also, they are exceedingly good-looking and have been called the super models of the dog world.” Her first was Hazel, and her most beloved was Charlotte, a calm, intuitive, companionable dog, who had just died from cancer. Besides chronicling the “wild, unknowable demon” that was Fig, Humphreys offers a tender elegy to Charlotte, with whom she had “the most intimate relationship with a dog” that she ever had. The author also shares fond memories of the dogs with whom she grew up. “My dogs have all had strong characters,” she writes, “and I have learned from them that to have traits that are admirable is as good as having traits that are likeable.” Many other writers, Humphreys discovered, have found dogs perfect companions: Virginia Woolf, whose “mongrel terrier” Grizzle accompanied her on daily walks over the South Downs; Thomas Hardy, whose aggressive fox terrier, Wessex, often ripped the trouser legs of guests; James Thurber, who included some of his 14 dogs in his drawings and stories; Gertrude Stein, who doted on her poodle, Basket; and Alexander Pope, who had a Great Dane named Bounce. Dogs, who “live very firmly in their bodies,” have liberated Humphreys by allowing her to cross from the life of the mind to the physicality of the body, a process that, “while jarring at first, actually opened up the writing process for me.” The book includes photos of writers and their canine companions.

A warm, writerly homage to the consolation of dogs.