Mr. Putter Returns to School in Mr. Putter and Tabby Ring the Bell

I grew up with many great easy reader series, but one of my very favorites is one I didn’t discover until I was an adult. That’s the Mr. Putter and Tabby series by Cynthia Rylant and Arthur Howard. This September saw the release of its 20th installment, and no first-grader could be more delighted than I was to see that it was time for a new tale featuring the lovable bachelor and his creaky cat, along with his sweet-natured neighbor and her affable bulldog.

Like me, Mr. Putter is very in tune with his inner child, and in Mr. Putter and Tabby Ring the Bell, the arrival of autumn weather and the ringing of a nearby school bell make him nostalgic for the classroom. Usually, it’s the more adventurous Mrs. Teaberry who comes up with an idea and gets mild-mannered Mr. Putter to go along with it, but this time out, he convinces her to go back to school for the day with him.

The cover illustration is a bit misleading, as it shows Mr. Putter sitting in a child’s desk, raising his hand. In the story, he does not actually settle in like a student for the day. Instead, he and his good friend bring Tabby and Zeke in for show and tell. But the kids want to see tricks. Can they coax some unusual antics out of a cat who is always napping and an overeating dog?

As with the previous installments of this adorable series, the four main characters spring to life despite the minimalist writing style. Rylant selects each word carefully, using it to maximum effect. For instance, her choice of “crispy” to describe fall carries with it all sorts of connotations, from dry leaves that crackle underfoot to tasty desserts made with crumbly oatmeal topping. A little later on, Rylant describes Zeke as “showy,” which provides a natural segue into Mr. Putter’s show and tell idea.

Howard’s illustrations are wonderful, expressive and loaded with little details. For instance, I love that when the visitors arrive in the classroom, the sheets of paper on the children’s desks read “dog” and “cat,” showing that their teacher has oriented a lesson around these special guests. The outdoor pictures of Mr. Putter are charming, with leaves blowing all around him and his scarf whipping in the wind. This book is also one of several in the series to include a picture that flashes back to his childhood. Here, we witness his love of geography as he tenderly gazes at a globe, one of the objects he most readily associates with school.

This book includes six sections, the shortest of which is just four pages long. The longest section is also the only one that deals directly with the classroom visit. The previous four chapters provide build-up, while the final one provides a nice denouement. It’s not unusual for books in this series to focus more on preparation for a particular event than on the event itself, and since the heightened anticipation makes what happens in the classroom even funnier, I don’t see it as a pacing problem. These stories tend to putter along just like their main character, and that just adds to the gentle fun.

By mid-September, many students are already grumbling about being back in school, but through the enthusiastic eyes of one of my favorite kidlit characters, they might just find a renewed zest for their education – or at least for show and tell!

An Elderly Bloodhound Gains Respect in A Trusty Old Pal

When I was a kid, I always got excited to see that the grocery store was starting up a new series of Disney books. Usually there would be around 20 books in the series, and they would be rolled out gradually, one a week or so, usually with some sort of special deal attached. Only once did I manage to collect an entire set - a Winnie the Pooh series - but I really enjoyed the ones I got. I'm not entirely sure if Disney's Storytime Treasures Library, published in 1998, is one of those grocery store sets or if it was a mail-order thing, but happening upon these at the library took me back to those childhood grocery store trips.

The neat thing about this particular set is that each of the 18 volumes focuses on characters from a different Disney movie. Hence, there's a lot of variety in terms of setting, and kids are almost certain to find a book featuring characters they enjoy. One of the sweetest in the series is number 15, A Trusty Old Pal.

In this book written by Ronald Kidd and illustrated by Kevin Kidney and Jody Daily, Trusty, the forgetful old hound dog who is a beloved neighbor to the cocker spaniel at the heart of Lady and the Tramp, is a guest in the home of Lady's owners. His best friend, a Scottish terrier named Jock, has gone on vacation for the week, and it's up to Lady, Tramp and their four pups to keep the good-natured bloodhound entertained.

This is a gentle tale that focuses on the challenges of adjusting to a houseguest, especially one who is elderly. While the pups love their "uncle," his slow, rambly ways try their patience, and frisky young Scamp, who takes after his father, has a particularly hard time showing tact. The story encourages children to respect their elders and to understand that they were young and vigorous once and probably have fascinating stories they'd be happy to tell.

The writing is typical for books in a series like this. It's not particularly artistic, but it gets the story across well, and I think Kidd does an especially nice job with the dialogue for Jock and Trusty. The print is fairly large, and most pages only have one or two paragraphs on them, with the illustrations taking up most of the space.

Those pictures really are a delight. Lady, Tramp, Jock, Trusty and the pups are lovingly rendered, and there's also a cameo by Tramp's former flame, Peg, and another by robust Italian restauranteur Tony. I love the picture of the three ladylike puppies sharing a big plate of spaghetti in a tip of the hat to the iconic scene from the movie. The trek through the woods late in the book is very visually appealing, with majestic trees, vibrant tufts of grass and creatures peeking out at the visitors. Fans of the movie should find the book quite satisfying.

Some of the end-of-the-book poems that summarize the theme are better than others, and I like this one a lot, especially the notion that "older folks have tales to tell." I'm all for encouraging intergenerational friendship, and A Trusty Old Pal shows just how fruitful such relationships can be.

The Poky Little Puppy's First Christmas Brings Friendship and Generosity

When I was little, one of my favorite books was the Little Golden Book The Poky Little Puppy. As I’ve always been on the poky side myself, I related to this pup that has such a hard time keeping up with his siblings, in part because he takes more time to stop and notice everything around him. I’m not sure how it took me this long to discover it, but this year I found out that another book featuring this peripatetic pooch was published, this one with a Christmas theme. With so much to see and do at this time of year, it’s little wonder that the Poky Little Puppy would be distracted. Which of the sights of the season would occupy his attention?

The Poky Little Puppy’s First Christmas has a different tone to it than the original book, which emphasizes Poky’s curiosity and unintentional disobedience. Late in the book, he’s chastised for being naughty, but ultimately the book concludes with him home safe and happy. Here, it seems that Poky’s mother is more understanding of his meandering ways, and while she implores him to be home on time, her response to his inevitable tardiness is not as harsh as in the first book. In any case, Poky’s vagabond ways merely set the stage for the most significant part of the story, which comes later.

In this book, a skunk named Herman helps Poky get out of a jam. Later, when Herman is in trouble himself, Poky finds a way to help him. The message is one of friendship and of being willing to give to others even if it’s at your own expense sometimes. Since Poky’s slow and inquisitive ways are what lead him to make the friendship and to hit upon the solution to his friend’s problem, this book celebrates Poky’s natural disposition instead of scolding it. That unquenchable curiosity about the world gets him into trouble, but it also gets him – and others – out of it.

As this was written about 50 years after the original, we don’t have the same author and illustrator on board this time around. The writer in this case is Justine Korman, while the illustrator is Jean Chandler. Looking at the book, even if I didn’t know how much later this was published, I would have guessed that the illustrator was different, but the look is similar enough that this is clearly the same character. The writing is solid, but the style is clearly not quite that of the original author. Also, the prominence of the family with whom the dogs live distinguishes it from the first book.

While The Poky Little Puppy is one of America’s most enduringly popular picture books, having sold about 15 million copies, I don’t see The Poky Little Puppy’s First Christmas becoming that iconic. It’s merely an afterthought of a sequel. Nonetheless, the poky little puppy continues to appeal to inquisitive children, and the emphasis on the joy of giving to a friend in need makes this an enjoyable Christmas tale.

Spot a Lot of Spotted Pups in 101 Dalmatians: A Counting Book

I’ve been a fan of Disney’s animated classic 101 Dalmatians as long as I can remember, and my affection for the film increased with the release of the live action movie and the fervor surrounding the attempts to collect every last one of the McDonald’s tie-in toys. I still have a sweatshirt that I got for Christmas back then, and with the red fabric and the spotted white puppy situated in the middle, it’s quite festive-looking. I’m very happy to associate myself with these pups, as is my brother, who was seven when the remake hit theaters and dressed as a Dalmatian for Halloween. I suspect that many kids, like him, became obsessed with the original after watching the 1996 version.

However they came to be fans of the movie, young Dalmatian lovers are the intended readers of 101 Dalmatians: A Counting Book. In this oversized picture book written by Fran Manushkin and Russell Hicks, every last one of the Dalmatian puppies in Pongo and Perdita’s care goes missing after they hear a fire truck while out for a walk and scatter in alarm and curiosity. I always thought that it would be hard to keep track of so many puppies, but this is a bit much! However, it sets up the fun to follow, as the ten pages after this point take Pongo and Perdita to distinct areas within the city to search for their missing pups. At every stop, ten – or, in the case of the last setting, nine – puppies lurk in the general area. It’s up to the reader to find them so that the adult dogs can progress with their search.

This book reminds me of the Where’s Waldo? books, though pointing out the puppies is much easier here. The puppies are bigger, there are more of them, and the pictures are less cluttered. Nonetheless, every page includes a puppy or two that is somewhat out of plain sight, so this should provide enough of a challenge for children around kindergarten age. What’s more, it offers counting practice, as the book encourages kids to count the puppies, starting with 1 through 10 and concluding with 90 through 99. Meanwhile, kids who can’t get enough of numbers can try their hands at counting up all 101 Dalmatians featured in the book’s final two-page spread, which is no easy task, though it is certainly one Sesame Street’s Count would relish.

The interactivity of this book is one aspect that makes it so fun. Another is the attention to setting. Several of the locations, like Cruella DeVil’s rickety mansion and the barn where the puppies once sought refuge, are lifted directly from the movie. Others, like the orchestral concert and the county fair, lack a direct connection to the movie but look as though they would fit seamlessly into the overall landscape. In addition to the half-hidden pups, some of the pictures include misleading drawings like a speckled pig and a man with black splotches on his white suit. Finally, the last page of the book lists trivia involving the original movie. Did you know, for instance, that the film includes 6,469,952 animated spots? Wild!

The rich detail and old-fashioned look of these illustrations make them a joy to study, and while the focus is definitely on the pictures, the writing is simple and appealing enough and anchored by the counting instructions at the bottom of most pages. As a seek and find, an opportunity to practice counting and an invitation to immersion in a beloved fictional world, 101 Dalmatians: A Counting Book is a book whose charm is not hard to spot.

Disney's Dogs Celebrates A Multitude of Animated Canine Companions

As a devotee of both Disney and dogs, I was delighted to discover Disney’s Dogs on a recent library excursion. At nearly 200 pages, this book looks more daunting than it actually is. Apart from a four-page index of illustrations, only seven pages feature any text to speak of. One is an introduction from Roy E. Disney, one is an acknowledgments page at the end of the book and the other five are introductions to each of the five main chapters. You could easily peruse the entirety of the book in less than an hour. However, while its size – 7.25 by 7.25 inches – makes it rather small for a coffee table book, the abundance of cheerful artwork renders it appropriate for prominent public placement.

Disney’s Dogs is essentially just a collection of artwork, from sketches and concept art to full-blown production stills, from Disney shorts and movies featuring dogs. The mix of media makes for more interesting “reading,” as does the fact that along with well-established characters like Pluto and Pongo, the editors sprinkle in more obscure pooches like the St. Bernard from the short Alpine Climbers and Dr. Doppler from the movie Treasure Planet. This is where the index, which lists the characters shown on each page and the movie or short in which they are featured, comes in especially handy.

In the first chapter, Old Dogs, New Tricks, we mostly find Pluto in a variety of scenarios, sometimes alongside characters like sweethearts Fifi and Dinah, pup Pluto Jr. and nemesis Butch. The introduction to this chapter mentions that Pluto appeared on nearly 50 military insignias during World War II, which I’d never heard before. Along with Pluto, we also get to see early Disney dogs like slobbery kitten babysitter Toliver from 1936’s More Kittens and enthusiastic Bowser from 1952’s Man’s Best Friend. Most of the artwork has a fairly rough or sketchy quality to it, with different types of media showing various sides of these furry fellows. My favorite is probably the first piece of artwork in this chapter, a drawing from 1936’s Mother Pluto in which a black-and-white penciled Pluto guards 19 fuzzy yellow chicks.

In Hot Dogs, we move into the movies, zeroing in on 101 Dalmatians, Lady and the Tramp, Oliver and Company and The Fox and the Hound. The artwork in this chapter is generally more involved than in the previous one. We have several full-blown production stills, including one from the spaghetti scene in Lady and the Tramp, widely regarded as one of the most romantic moments in all of film, animated or not. (This scene, incidentally, is one of two that appears later in the form of an 11-page flip book between the fifth chapter and the index. A cool idea, though the pages are too large to make for easy flipping, and there are too few of them to truly create the illusion of movement.) I also love the series of wobbly drawings preceding this still, especially the one in which a wide-eyed Tramp nearly chokes on his spaghetti after receiving an unexpected nuzzle from Lady. The most interesting artwork here, though, is the series of highly stylized paintings featuring Dalmatians Pongo and Perdita setting off across the snowy countryside in search of their pups. Also fascinating is the size comparison sheet showing all of the dogs and Oliver in relation to each other.

Their Bark Is Bigger Than Their Bite deals with dogs who go above and beyond the call of duty, acting in ways that are almost human. Nana, the enormous dog who serves as a nanny to the Darlings in Peter Pan, and Toby, the bloodhound who helps Basil and Dawson crack the case in The Great Mouse Detective, turn up here, with the latter looking especially endearing in a soft drawing that has Basil whispering in his ear. We also see exuberant sheepdog Max from The Little Mermaid and persnickety pug Percy from Pocahontas. This section includes a greater variety of individual dogs than the previous chapter, also featuring supporting canine players from Cinderella, The Aristocats, Mulan, The Sword in the Stone, Robin Hood, Home on the Range and Fantasia 2000.

Off the Leash features dogs who don’t quite fit the mold, whether because, like Goofy, they are basically humans with a few canine features or, like Stitch, they are merely posing as dogs. In this section, you will find the footstool from Beauty and the Beast, the brush-dog from Alice in Wonderland and Slinky Dog from Toy Story, among others. I think my favorite illustration here is the stately portrait of Treasure Planet’s sophisticated Dr. Doppler. In fact, it makes me want to see the movie again.

Speaking of which, the final chapter, the shortest of the bunch, focuses entirely upon Bolt, which had just been released when this book hit shelves. I enjoyed the movie, but it doesn’t seem to make much sense for this one dog to have a chapter all to himself. He’s not that big a deal. I get the idea that the main point of this chapter is to encourage people to go out and see the movie in theaters. Still, it’s a nice little section, and the two-page spread of Bolt, scraggly cat Mittens and hyper hamster Rhino is especially eye-catching.

Scattered throughout the book are quotes, most of them anonymous, about the joys of sharing one’s life with a dog. For instance, I love the anonymous “My goal in life is to be as good a person as my dog already thinks I am” and am amused by the query, “When a dog wags its tail and barks at the same time, how do you know which end to believe?” This is a nice addition for a book with very little text, and those who appreciate dogs enough to want this book will probably find the quotes a nice bonus.

“Outside of a dog, a book is man’s best friend. Inside a dog, it’s too dark to read,” Groucho Marx once quipped. Inside this book, you will find dozens of examples of man’s best friend of the furry variety, so make sure you have plenty of light by which to read. This is an outstanding collection for dog lovers and Disney fans of all ages.

Schnitzel Ponders His Favorite Things in Schnitzel's First Christmas

In The Sound of Music, Maria lists schnitzel as one of her favorite things. The song containing that sentiment has become a Christmas standard, so even though she was referring to a popular Austrian dish, it seems fitting for a character named Schnitzel to inhabit a Christmas book. In Hans Wilhelm’s Schnitzel’s First Christmas, the titular character is a puppy, and like everyone else in the story, he is thinking about his favorite things. That’s because according to Gruff, the grumpy gray cat, everyone who wishes for a particular present before Christmas Eve will have that wish granted by Santa. But Schnitzel has so much already; what could he possibly wish for?

This is a cute story for the early elementary school set. The writing is not very complicated, and most pages have a few short paragraphs of text. Schnitzel interacts with five different characters in the book; we never actually see the people who live in his house, though indications of their presence are prevalent. When Schnitzel complains that no one has any time for him, it would seem that he means the humans; the animals living in and around the home seem more than willing to take the time to talk to him. The cat, the fish and the birds all have specific requests in mind, ones that could easily apply to a puppy with a bit of tweaking. Toys, shelter and food all come up as basic desires.

Schnitzel is a lovable pup, and there’s something sweet about the fact that he is so happy with what he has that he can’t think of anything to ask for. On the other hand, his inability to come up with something makes him miserable. So he does really want something; he just can’t for the life of him figure out what. Mostly, he doesn’t want to feel left out, which is a feeling many children can relate to. The Christmas picture book market is flooded with “first Christmas” stories, usually involving animals because in most cases, the first Christmas of a human child would be when he or she is a baby too young to really appreciate what is going on. Books of this type involving dogs seem to be especially popular, and this one fits in well with the rest.

The story is sweet, but the real charm of the book lies in the illustrations. Schnitzel is a cute beige puppy with a little mop of fur atop his head and slightly darker brown ears. The book doesn’t indicate the medium for the illustrations; my guess would be watercolors, perhaps with some colored pencil mixed in for the detail work, particularly on Schnitzel’s scraggly fur. The pictures have a very soft tone to them, both in terms of muted colors and a lack of sharp edges. They have a comforting feel to them that matches the overall theme of the story, which has to do with the value of companionship.

While I do think that Schnitzel, so content in other areas of his life, could be a little more grateful for the presence of other animals with whom he can converse, in general he is very lovable. In looking over a list of Wilhelm’s published works, I see he has a series starring another puppy named Noodles. Considering how well the exuberant young Maria thinks those two go together, that looks to me like a crossover just waiting to happen, especially since Wilhelm, having written a book about the real Von Trapp family, is so obviously aware of The Sound of Music. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that this Schnitzel is one of my favorite things, but he’s certainly a pleasant puppy to spend a few minutes with.

Farley Follows His Nose and Finds an Adventure

For Better or For Worse will always have a special place in my heart as the comic strip that convinced me to start reading the Sunday comics. My mom had read one of the strips aloud, and it felt so pertinent and true-to-life that I was intrigued and had to read it for myself, and then I decided that I really ought to make a regular habit of it. Since Elizabeth had many of my personality traits and was just a little older than me, I always found plenty to relate to in the strip, in which the characters aged at a normal rate and creator Lynn Johnston crafted many complex storylines.

With the strips covering nearly 30 years in the life of the Canadian Patterson family, it was only natural that Farley, the great big English Sheepdog who was the family pet, would not make it to the end of the strip, and the storyline dealing with his death was one of the most touching and heartbreaking of the strip’s long run. However, in 2008, Johnston decided to go back in time, creating new strips involving the Pattersons as a young family, and in 2009, she and her daughter, Beth Cruikshank, collaborated on a picture book that brought Farley roaring back to life.

Farley Follows His Nose is not a collection of comic strips. Johnston’s distinctive style is stamped all over the pages, but she has huge spaces to work with instead of the usual tiny boxes. There’s something really visceral about that, as refreshing as a big wet dog shaking himself out over a verdant lawn, as Farley does early in the book. We see matriarch Elly, the strip’s main character, at the beginning and end of the book, and we get enough of a glimpse of the children to see that Elizabeth is a toddler – clutching the stuffed bunny she loses in the television special The Bestest Present – and Michael is in elementary school. The focus, however, is on the exuberant Farley.

This is a very simple story that reminds me a bit of Beverly Cleary’s Ribsy, in which the beloved dog belonging to Henry Huggins gets loose and traverses the town on a series of adventures. Ribsy’s trek lasts longer; Farley’s is restricted to one day. But the dog’s-eye – or, more accurately, dog’s-nose – view is similar, as is the series of friends he makes, only to quickly continue on his way. The story is held together by the device of a wave of words or phrases, four of them all smooshed together, each in a different color. Each phrase is a smell that captures Farley’s attention, and the rainbow-colored list is followed by an “and…” that takes readers to the next page, where the most exciting smell of all is presented in extra-large, colorful letters and followed by an exclamation point.

Farley does a lot of sniffing in this book. We often see him raising his nose to the air or snuffling in the dirt as onomatopoeic words describing his olfactory activities surround his head. It’s his sense of smell that leads Farley to the next stop on his uncharted adventure, and when he decides the time has come to head back, all he has to do is follow the smells backward, reminding me of the classic animated Sesame Street sequence in which a lost child was advised, “Try to remember the things you passed, and when you come back, make the first thing last.” He doesn’t do it entirely consciously; he’s mostly thinking about the possibility of returning to the site of the best smells of the day, which included hot dogs, popcorn and children. Still, it’s a good strategy, and it makes me wish my sense of smell was a little more fine-tuned.

This is a story that is repetitive and uncomplicated, but with just enough variation from page to page to keep things interesting. Most pages include only a couple sentences, with the pictures doing most of the talking. The primary audience is clearly children about Elizabeth’s age; even Michael could probably consider this a bit below his reading level. However, when it comes to longtime fans of the strip, Farley Follows His Nose is fantastic fun for all ages.

Here Comes Snoopy, and Here Comes Fun

While I am fond of all the characters who populate Peanuts, the classic comic strip created by Charles Schulz, my favorite would have to be Snoopy, that cheerful, imaginative beagle with dreams of novelist glory that are frequently thwarted by unfeeling editors. Even though Snoopy didn’t become a writer until later in the series, it was a no-brainer for me to scoop up the 1950s-era collection Here Comes Snoopy when I spotted it at our local city-wide book sale. Like Here Comes Charlie Brown!, this volume is just over a hundred pages long and is drawn from a larger collection, this one called Snoopy Vol. 1. Unlike that book, it is unified by the fact that the title character appears in every single strip.

There’s actually quite a lot of overlap between the two books, with a majority of the Snoopy strips from that book showing up in this one. This is very early Snoopy, so he looks a bit more like a regular dog and a bit less than the very distinct canine found in so many Christmas ornaments, plush toys and Minnesota public art statues. Still, we definitely get the sense that Snoopy is not quite an ordinary dog. There’s something a little unusual about him, whether he’s spending his days imitating Charlie Brown and his friends or sobbing into Schroeder’s shoulder after a particularly moving piano performance.

While Here Comes Charlie Brown! is pretty much just a hodgepodge of early strips, Here Comes Snoopy most definitely belongs to the beagle. Mostly, we see him either on his own or interacting with Charlie Brown, Linus or Lucy. Other characters do make the occasional appearance; Schroeder appears in several strips, and we see Violet and Patty, though neither of them says much. Each strip contains four panels, though some are square, some are ovals and some have no outline at all.

Charlie Brown is well aware that his dog is an oddball, and sometimes that seems to frustrate him. More than once, we see him offering to teach Snoopy a simple skill, only to have him demonstrate that he is far too advanced for that sort of lesson. It annoys him that Snoopy is such a know-it-all. He also is irritated by Snoopy’s constant shedding. Nonetheless, he loves showing his dog off to everybody, and it’s apparent that Snoopy brings him just as much happiness as he does frustration.

While Linus is generally a gentle, philosophical soul, he and Snoopy have always had a somewhat antagonistic relationship because of Snoopy’s tendency to steal his security blanket. Hence, most of the encounters we see between the two are rather tense. Sometimes we see Snoopy clutching his blanket in his teeth and zooming off while Linus holds on for dear life. At other times, Snoopy tries to sneak up on Linus and give him a good scare, but Linus always seems to be one step ahead of him and retaliates with something even more ferocious that sends Snoopy streaking off in terror.

Lucy doesn’t have as much to do with Snoopy as her brother does, but generally their meetings are more cordial. While Snoopy enjoys poking fun at her, he also appreciates the affection she lavishes on him, even though he thinks a tasty treat would be a more exciting gesture than a pat on the head. Lucy, like Patty and Violet, generally approves of Snoopy, and he sometimes brings out her softer side, though she’s not afraid to confront him when she thinks he is being ridiculous.

It’s a little strange to have an entire book full of Snoopy cartoons and not see Woodstock once, but Snoopy’s feathered pal didn’t join the strip until 1967 (and didn’t get a name until 1970). Snoopy is a solitary creature here. Not only do we not see Woodstock, we don’t see his doghouse either, which makes him feel much less like the king of his domain. He’s more of a perpetual tagalong. Some days, he seems to revel in his status, but at other times, he wishes that he were human and even goes so far as to say that he would avoid dogs if he hadn’t been born one, since he finds canines fundamentally distasteful. His feelings seem to fluctuate.

Mostly, though, he appears pretty happy with his lot. He has half a dozen ready playmates, a steady supply of food and the freedom to indulge his imaginative whims. In one of the strips, Charlie Brown and Shermy walk up to Snoopy and, finding him looking despondent under a thick snowfall, tell him, “Be of good cheer.” This amuses me because my brother and I once had a conversation about the Christmas song It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year and how neither of us could ever remember being told, “Be of good cheer.” But Snoopy receives this very instruction. It occurs within the first few pages of the book, so if you’re reading it, you might consider it an instruction to the reader as well, but hardly a necessary one. Cheer can hardly be avoided when Snoopy is coming your way.

Relive LOST's Pilot Episode With Bif Bang Pow!'s Jack Shephard and Vincent

Back when McFarlane released its first line of LOST action figures, I bought the company’s rendition of Jack Shephard, arguably the show’s central character, for my friend Libbie for her birthday. I didn’t nab one for myself, though, partly because I figured as long as one of us had him that was enough, partly because I never really latched onto Jack until season six, and I was never more frustrated with him than I was during season three, when that figure came out. Maybe someday I’ll buy that Jack from eBay, but the Bif Bang Bow! bobblehead version is so similar that doing so would probably feel redundant. If only the bobblehead came equipped with a sound chip like the action figure, I’d be all set.

This version of Jack, like the McFarlane version, captures him in the early moments of the series premiere. Dressed in a sharp-looking black suit with black tie askew over his white button-up shirt, Jack sports a five-o’clock shadow and a bleeding wound on each cheek. He doesn’t look too concerned about that; he’s a doctor, and he’s used to ignoring his own pain as he tries to fix the injuries of others. His mouth is set in an expression of grim determination, and his eyes seem filled with steely resolve.

Like the other bobbleheads in this collection – except Hurley, who’s taller because he’s wearing a safari hat – Jack stands about seven inches tall, including the base upon which he is situated. That base is sandy-colored, as we’re supposed to be seeing Jack on the beach, and it’s circular and tall enough to leave room for “Jack Shephard” to be spelled out in large white letters on the front. Letters of that same style appear on the back as well, spelling out “LOST.” Surrounding Jack on the base are several remnants of the plane crash, and standing beside him is Vincent, the yellow lab who came on the plane with Walt, the lone kid in LOST’s first season whose disappearance from the show after that point – aside from the very occasional guest appearance – frustrated fans.

Vincent is the first survivor Jack meets after arriving on the Island, and that brief but important encounter finds an echo late in the series, giving the two characters a powerful bond. It’s nice to see the show’s Most Valuable Canine honored in this way, though the fact that his name does not appear on the base suggests that he is more of a prop than a living, breathing character, and that is definitely not the case. While he only appears in about a third of the episodes, he makes several significant contributions to the events of the Island. His likeness here is a tad generic, with fully black eyes and hindquarters that are sort of fused with the large piece of wreckage at the back of the base. Still, it’s recognizably Vincent, and no one who watched the series regularly will be in any doubt as to who the dog is and why he is there.

Jack’s head bobbles a lot or a little, depending on how forcefully his head is nudged. The mild bobble seems more suited to the personality of this emotionally guarded physician, but it can be fun to see him wobble away like a jittery sycophant. The motion is just a fun added bonus, though. While Jack is not my favorite bobblehead of the bunch, he is certainly a character that many fans would like to capture. Of course, those who are that fond of Jack will probably already have him in some form, as not only McFarlane but several other companies have come out with renditions of this leader of the ragtag band of Oceanic 815 castaways. Still, this version of Jack has about as much to recommend it as others do, and it only costs about $13, plus shipping; as far as I know, no brick-and-mortar stores stock these bobbleheads, but they are available from ABC’s online LOST store and the catalog Entertainment Earth.

It took me a long time to fully warm up to Jack, but now I consider him one of my favorite characters, and the inclusion of Vincent makes this bobblehead all the more appealing. Like Ben Linus and Daniel Faraday, the first members of my bobbly LOST menagerie, Jack plays the piano, so he’s right at home atop my weathered Lester, and when I play Michael Giacchino’s iconic Life and Death theme, it’s a pleasure to see him wobbling ever so slightly in approval. Are you suffering from LOST withdrawal? The Jack and Vincent bobblehead may be just what the doctor ordered.

A Day Sail Cures the Summer Blahs in Mr. Putter and Tabby Clear the Decks

I live in Erie, Pennsylvania, where one of our claims to fame is the Flagship Niagara, a brig that played a pivotal role in the War of 1812. Last summer, my family spent a day aboard the ship, stretching our nautical legs in the waters of Lake Erie. In Mr. Putter and Tabby Clear the Decks, the latest in a series of books about an old man, his creaky cat, his eccentric neighbor and her rambunctious dog, the quirky quartet go for a similar day sail.

Like the rest of the Mr. Putter and Tabby books, this one is divided into sections. In this case, there are five: Itchy, An Idea ,Pepping Up, A Boat! and Another Boat! We begin with Mr. Putter and Tabby feeling “itchy,” as in bored. They’re hot and can’t think of anything interesting to do. That’s where Mrs. Teaberry comes in. She always has adventurous ideas, and when Mr. Putter appeals to her for help, she comes up with the sailing trip. It seems like a perfect outing for them, but when the time comes to leave, one member of the party is not so willing to depart…

As always, Cynthia Rylant does a wonderful job of breathing life and humor into these characters with just a few words. Timid Mr. Putter and zesty Mrs. Teaberry complement one another well, and their pets are always good for a laugh, especially with Arthur Howard’s expressive illustrations. A lot of the humor in the book is purely visual. Other chuckles come from Rylant’s sparse but flavorful phrasing. For instance, upon reflecting on the boat’s name of The Olden Days, “Mr. Putter was glad the boat was not named The Young and Zippy Days. Those were long behind him.”

One two-page spread has Mr. Putter remembering some of the strange ideas Mrs. Teaberry has had in the past. His eyes pop with alarm as he recalls a wobbly ice skating expedition and a trip to a baffling art museum. On another page, Mr. Putter soaks in the fresh air by standing at the bow of the ship in a jubilant expression that’s almost certainly a reference to Titanic.

Only one and a half “chapters” actually take place on the boat; it’s mostly build-up and a bit of denouement. Nonetheless, kids who are interested in boats might enjoy this outing, and anyone who’s ever joined Mr. Putter and Mrs. Teaberry on a jaunt before is sure to love the chance to see these old friends together again. This is an easy reader series aimed at children in early elementary school, but I’m 29, and my eyes lit up when I saw that another installment had been published. So whatever your age, give Mr. Putter and Tabby Clear the Decks a try. I found it smooth sailing indeed.

Carface Remembers He Has a Heart in An All Dogs Christmas Carol

I was browsing around Netflix yesterday when I discovered that there was an All Dogs Go to Heaven Christmas movie – and that, even better, it was available to watch online. While I raised an eyebrow over the existence of this second sequel to the animated Don Bluth film about a rough-and-tumble dog with a heart of gold, I loved the original, so I figured it would be worth a shot. As I expected, An All Dogs Christmas Carol is a cute enough, if wholly unnecessary, adaptation of the Charles Dickens classic.

After the second (rather abysmal) All Dogs Go to Heaven movie, there was evidently a television series starring these characters, and I get the sense that this movie is in line with that series. It doesn’t seem to pick right up from where the movie left off; I tried not to remember too much about that shoddy sequel, but there seemed to be some continuity issues that maybe could have been ironed out through the TV series. I’ll give it the benefit of the doubt there. Still, this movie, at a scant hour and fifteen minutes in length, basically screams “quick moneymaker” to me. It’s nothing but a retelling of A Christmas Carol, and considering the fact that the original movie was a fairly powerful story of redemption itself, giving us another redemption story here that is such an obvious rip-off doesn’t feel nearly as compelling. I mean, you could take any number of shows or movies and make the resident grouchiest / meanest character into Scrooge and use side characters as the ghosts who help him or her recover the Christmas spirit. It’s been done over and over again. One of my all-time favorite television episodes, M*A*S*H’s Dear Sis, has an element of A Christmas Carol about it. But it isn’t just a straightforward rehash, which this is.

The villainous canine gangster Carface (Ernest Borgnine) is up to his old tricks. This time, he’s got a magical gizmo that hypnotizes any dog within hearing range, allowing him to make out like a bandit when they march up to him in a daze and give him all their stuff. He and his faithful assistant, Killer (Charles Nelson Reilly), have had it with these little gigs, though. They want to pull off something truly impressive, so Carface makes a deal with the devil, or at least a truly demonic canine named Belladonna (Bebe Neuwirth). If he holds up his end of the bargain, Christmas will be ruined forever. But Charlie (Steven Weber, the third actor to voice the character), his ladylove Sasha (Sheena Easton) and his best friend Itchy (Dom DeLuise) have a plan to stop Carface. With some help from another magical gizmo, this one provided by goody-two-shoes angel Annabelle (Neuwirth), they will take a page out of Dickens’ book and try to show Carface the error of his ways.

Charlie literally hits upon the idea of essentially reenacting A Christmas Carol, so the plot is derivative even within the world of the movie. And for as vile as Carface is – much worse, really, than Scrooge, who was cranky and cold but didn’t go around trying to kill people – it sure doesn’t take long for his heart to start melting. It happens a little too quickly. Then again, I got whiplash from him going back and forth between feeling really emotional over what he was seeing and closing himself off and flying into a violent rage.

I did rather like the first two segments, though. The Christmas Past part features the only decent song in the movie, in which he sadly remembers the little boy he loved who always made excuses for his bad behavior until, one fateful Christmas, he didn’t. Which, he realizes, is why he hates Christmas so much, not to mention why he would rather use others than get attached to them. In the Christmas Present section, I love the fact that Sasha guides Carface while dressed as Santa Lucia – especially since I happened to watch it on Santa Lucia Day. The Christmas Future part, usually so terrifying and desolate, is the weakest of the three, with an annoying centerpiece of Charlie singing a gospel-tinged song about how Carface has to mend his ways.

As with A Christmas Carol - as well as All Dogs Go to Heaven - it’s a youngster in trouble who is really the deciding factor in bringing about the change in heart. In this case, it’s a puppy with a bum leg who reminds Carface of his younger self. That element is sweet enough, though one wonders why Anne Marie, the little girl he abused in the first movie, didn’t have the same sort of effect on him. Additionally, it’s not enough for Carface to awake on Christmas morning wanting to be a better dog. No, he has to decide whether or not to participate in the nefarious plan that seemed so appealing to him hours before, and this aspect of the movie is pretty goofy, since he keeps changing his mind as to whether or not to throw the all-important switch that will hypnotize every dog in San Francisco.

A Christmas Carol is a powerful story, so even though this is nowhere near the best version I have seen, it’s still reasonably touching from time to time. And it’s certainly not the worst version out there. But this is one edition of A Christmas Carol I don’t expect to turn into a Christmas tradition.

Alexandra Day Defends Rottweilers' Honor in Good Dog, Carl

There are certain breeds of dogs who are always getting a lot of flack. Pit bulls. Dobermans. Rottweilers. I wonder if Alexandra Day encountered a lot of ill will toward the latter that led her to attempt to give them better publicity. Starting with Good Dog, Carl, she has produced a series of books in which a Rottweiler is depicted as the most saintlike of dogs.

Good Dog, Carl is a beautifully illustrated, mostly wordless picture book focusing on the dog’s day at home attending to the family baby. His mistress, who promises to be back home “shortly” but seems to stay away much longer than that, has no qualms about leaving Carl in charge. She knows how responsible he is. We’re about to find out.

Carl is no ordinary dog, and that’s what makes these books both so appealing and vaguely unsettling. For instance, I recently watched Kipper’s Playtime, a collection of cartoons about an anthropomorphic dog and his friends. In one of the shorts, he babysits his friend’s toddler cousin, who happens to be a pig. But Kipper behaves like a human, so there’s nothing very odd about this situation.

By contrast, Carl lives in a very realistic world, and he clearly is supposed to be a realistic dog. But not even Lassie was capable of turning on the record player or making a sandwich or operating a hair drier. Carl does all of these things, using his teeth or paws to assist him. He’s absurdly nimble. Granted, he’s not quite as coordinated as a human would be, so some messes are inevitable, but Carl is also adept at cleaning after himself. Is there anything this dog can’t do?

Day’s tempera paintings are soft and lifelike. While perusing the pictures, it’s tempting to reach out and ruffle Carl’s ears. Stripped of the fierce connotations that often accompany this breed of dog, gentle Carl is quite adorable. There are many irresistible illustrations of his young charge clinging to his fur, and the mutual affection is apparent.

On the other hand, because of the realism, the general concept of a dog babysitting an infant is unnerving, and certain moments within the book seem downright troubling. I’m thinking especially of Carl placing the baby inside the aquarium so she can go for a swim and dropping her into a bathtub in which the water looks fairly deep. These both seem like accidental drownings waiting to happen. Meanwhile, the painting of him trotting up the stairs with the baby on his back invites visions of tumbling head over heels and losing a tooth or breaking a bone.

Good Dog, Carl is a lovely book, and like other books in which the pictures tell the whole story, it offers an opportunity for youngsters to hone their own storytelling skills as they describe what is happening. Mostly, I’m inclined to overlook the strangeness of the situation. But there’s still that little voice inside nagging away. I’m convinced that Carl is a good dog. But I still wouldn’t want a Rottweiler, or even a Golden Retriever, having sole responsibility for my baby.

Around Epinions in 80 Days: Kipper's Playtime Is a Fine Time Indeed

A few years ago, while I was babysitting, I discovered the television show Kipper, based on the book series by Mick Inkpen. I found the slow pace and kind characters charming, so I was delighted to find that several collections of episodes are available for Instant Viewing on Netflix. What can I say? I’m a big kid. These remind me quite a bit of Cynthia Rylant’s Poppleton stories about a timid middle-aged pig and his friends, but I would say that they aim at a slightly younger audience. The television series is probably best suited to children younger than kindergarten age, though I still found it entertaining at age 28. Kipper: Playtime features seven different stories and is just under an hour long.

In The Treasure Hunt, Tiger, a gray and white terrier who is one of Kipper’s best friends, gets a metal detector, a gadget for which I always longed as a child. I had visions of combing the backyard or the beach and digging up long-buried treasure, and that’s just what Tiger has in mind too. Generous dog that he is, he invites Kipper, the orange and white beagle who is the main character, to join in his search. After a hard day of looking, their most valuable finds are a couple of old toys belonging to Arnold, the toddler cousin of their friend Pig (whose name is self-explanatory). Good for Arnold, disappointing for the dogs. Could there still be a treasure in store for them?

Looking After Arnold finds Kipper taking on the task of babysitter. Pig needs a little break, and Kipper is happy to help out, but little Arnold is not nearly as tired as Pig suggests he will be, and a nap is the last thing on his mind. Hence, Kipper has his paws full keeping up with this little tyke. Throughout the entire video, Arnold never speaks, and he’s hardly a Tasmanian devil here, but he does seem to have an endless supply of energy that Kipper can’t quite match. He sure is a good sport, though, and I especially love the nostalgia of watching him construct a playhouse using the table, a blanket and some cushions and a train using an old cardboard box. Classic!

Tiger’s Joke Box is perhaps the funniest of the episodes. Tiger has a rather spunky personality, and here, it seems an extra “g” might suit him well, as he’s up to all kinds of mischief. Toting a box full of tricks that ought to have Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes stamped right on it, he spends his day fooling his friends with whoopie cushions, trick candy, an eye-blackening telescope and the like, chortling with laughter as he flees the scene of the crime. But what will happen when his friends realize they’ve been had?

Pig’s Sweater takes place on a hot summer day. While Kipper is enjoying a refreshing dip in the kiddie pool, Pig stops by to show off his new sweater. He doesn’t want to get in because he’s concerned about damaging his new clothing, but a different problem presents itself when Arnold discovers a mysterious trail of arrows. Under the hot sun, Pig becomes quite uncomfortable. What’s more, unknown to him, his sweater gets snagged, leaving a trail of yarn stretching far behind him. Where could the arrows be leading, and what’s to be done about the sweater?

Clay Time makes me think of Ghost, since Kipper and Tiger make huge messes of themselves while attempting to create pieces of pottery. Of course, the scene here is hardly steamy, just silly, especially when Pig, stopping over to Tiger’s for tea, mistakes the not-yet-baked pots on the tray in the living room for chocolate cookies.

Aladdin has nothing on Kipper when it comes to getting rides on enchanted objects. In The Magic Carpet, one of the fabled conveyances slips in the window while Kipper is asleep, leaving him to discover, the next morning, that he has a passport to go anywhere he likes - but he can only make three destination wishes. Big-dreaming Kipper decides to go to the moon and hang out with the Bleeper People, strange creatures who look a bit like Snowths, the Muppets who sing back-up for Mahna Mahna, and sound like Elmer Fudd speaking gibberish. A cute I Don’t Want to Live on the Moon sort of story.

Kipper the Hero ends the collection on a high note as Kipper, reading about his favorite superhero, decides that he will become a hero himself. Giving himself a new name, a cape and a super-bike, he dashes about trying to prevent catastrophes, but instead, he only seems to cause them. But when a real disaster strikes, Kipper is ready to spring into action and show what he’s really made of.

Each of the seven stories has a good mix of humor and kindness. These are clearly friends who care about each other, and while each has his quirks, there is no malice to be found here, even when Tiger goes a little overboard on the practical jokes. The main characters are well defined, and though the sheepdog Jake only appears in a couple of episodes, his shy, gentle personality comes across pretty well too.

Martin Clunes voices Kipper, who speaks with a lower voice than any of the other characters. The rest are portrayed by Chris Lang, who makes his characters sound similar to one another but still distinct. The animation is simplistic but appealing, and the jazzy score has a soothing quality to it that matches the nature of the stories. I also like the British feel of the characters, evident not only in the accents but also in some of the phrases, like “have a go,” “fancy a sweet” and “brilliant”. Additionally, the ducks on the duck pond are white, rather than the brown ones we have around here.

I’ve been known to complain that cartoons nowadays just aren’t up to the standards of what we had as kids, but shows like this make me reconsider. Teletubbies and Booh-Bah still give me the willies, but Kipper is high-quality programming, and Kipper: Playtime is a fine representation of that.

Seven-Year-Old Emma Kragen's Vision Hits DVD in The 12 Dogs of Christmas

A couple of years ago, I happened upon The 12 Dogs of Christmas, a cute and simple book that parodies The 12 Days of Christmas by having each day bring dogs of a different breed. Seven-year-old Emma Kragen came up with the concept, while three adults helped with photographing dogs and providing background illustrations. When I found that this book had inspired a movie, I found it hard to imagine what kind of film could come out of a mere listing of dogs of various breeds. I put it in my queue, expecting something pretty silly. After two years on the list, it finally made its way to my mailbox this month, and I must say that while it was silly at times, it was better than I anticipated.

The 12 Dogs of Christmas is a live-action family film set in the 1930s, with a running time of nearly two hours. It stars Jordan-Claire Green as Emma O’Conner, a plucky 12-year-old from Pittsburgh whose out-of-work father sticks her on a train to a town from his past, giving her the address of “Aunt Delores” and a promise to collect her by Christmas. Emma soon finds out that Delores (Bonita Friedericy) is not her aunt but her father’s former flame. She’s still got some pretty bitter feelings toward him and can’t believe his audacity in dropping his daughter on her doorstep.

Naturally, she eventually agrees, albeit reluctantly, to allow Emma to stay with her, though she insists upon her finding a job so she can pay for her food. She even thinks she has the perfect job for Emma - as lackey for the scuzzy local dogcatcher (John Billingsley), who has amorous intentions toward her. But Emma, despite initially professing a dislike for dogs, soon finds herself in league with Mike Stevens (Adam Hicks), a boy who, along with his mom Cathy (Susan Wood), is working diligently to undermine the dogcatcher at every opportunity. His position is especially nefarious because his brother, the mayor (Richard Riehle), in the movie’s most absurd plot point, has outlawed the owning of dogs within city limits, considering them a nuisance. So any dog he finds inside the city is fair game.

This is a direct-to-video movie that is sometimes a little over-the-top and slapsticky and relies on a couple of dubious premises. On the whole, however, it’s polished - infinitely more so than Dear Santa, the low-budget disaster of a movie Netflix last sent me - and the actors, though mostly unfamiliar to me, did their jobs well. I especially enjoyed Riehle, who I’ve seen in several projects, most notably Office Space. He provides a charming mix of pomposity and decency for the mayor. I also loved Eric Lutes, who guest starred in a memorable episode of Frasier, as the football coach who takes over direction of the children’s Christmas program at the last minute, leading him to team up with piano-playing Cathy. His sweet, bumbling manner is most endearing, making him my favorite character in the movie. It was also fun to see Austin Powers‘ Mindy Sterling as a harsh but not altogether unreasonable administrator.

The two young leads are unremarkable but effective. They don’t come across as cheesy, except perhaps Hicks in one scene, though Green is a bit wooden at times. In general, though, they do a good job. Friedericy and Billingsley are both over-the-top, but the former is mostly entertaining, while the latter is mostly grating. The movie, directed by Kieth Merrill and written by Merrill and Steven Paul Leiva, seems mostly historically accurate and reminds me of Kit Kittredge: An American Girl, which is set during the same time period.

Of course, one might argue that the entire purpose of this movie is to find an excuse to assemble a film version of Emma Kragen’s vision, and that does happen, in the form of the kids’ Christmas pageant. It’s a little too convenient that Cathy’s makeshift shelter just happens to contain exactly the right numbers of each type of dog to pull that off. That is the movie’s second-most-unbelievable plot point, but I’ll let it slide since it’s the scene around which the film was written.

The DVD includes a behind-the-scenes peek at the movie that mainly consists of poorly edited interviews with the actors. Lute’s segments are the best, as he infuses his responses with considerable wit. The kids - who include Hicks, Green and Alisha Mullally, who plays their classmate Miranda - seem giggly and nervous, and there’s something a bit eye-rolling about Green’s explanation that, in essence, the true meaning of Christmas is that dogs are lovable.

But dogs are lovable, at least to many of us. If that includes you, The 12 Dogs of Christmas might just bring a smile to your face.

James Earl Jones Impressively Narrates the Unimpressive Nine Dog Christmas

Over the past week, I’ve been scouring Netflix for Christmas movies and have come up with a few, most of which I’ve never heard of. Last night’s oddball film was a little 2001 animated flick called Nine Dog Christmas. The one mark in the movie’s favor going into it was the presence of James Earl Jones. With him serving as the austere narrator, surely it couldn’t be too bad...

This hour-long Christmas tale has two main threads that converge before long. In one, there’s a group of eight hard-on-their-luck mutts who wind up in the clutches of a nefarious Frenchman named Pierre (Randy Rice), who travels around in a sleigh pulled by his long-suffering dog Frenchie. As he carts them off to try to make a quick buck off of them, the pooches get to know each other. Australian Snowplow (Rice) and Scottish MacGregor (Thomas Garner) have authoritative airs that make them the ragtag gang’s de facto leaders. Among the rest, one is loopy, and two are rapidly falling in love with each other. Each dog has his or her own personality quirks.

Meanwhile, at the North Pole, Santa (Pat Fraley) has run into a problem, though he doesn’t realize it. The reindeer are down with the flu, and the elves scramble to find replacements before the boss finds out. Neurotic head elf Buzz (Scott Hamilton) is particularly distraught, and he enlists the aid of cheerful novice Agnes Anne (Russi Taylor) to find a new team of sled pullers in time. Whose path should they cross but those dogs in Pierre’s clutches? But getting them to Santa and training them for their takeover isn’t as easy as they might think.

I found the animation and voice work in this special to be pretty enjoyable. We hear a variety of different accents: French, Spanish, Scottish Australian. Several actors voice multiple characters, but that is never obvious, as each voice is entirely distinct from the others. Jones makes a fantastic narrator, just as one would expect, and many of the actors lace their vocal performances with humor.

The story, however, is rather weak. Replacing reindeer with dogs doesn’t seem like such a good idea, and why go so far away to recruit? Couldn’t the elves simply round up some moose or polar bears? I would think that anyone living in proximity to the North Pole would be happy to lend Santa a hand. For that matter, if size is so unimportant, the elves could probably pull the sleigh themselves. Then again, they might be just a little bit small for the job. Additionally, the conclusion of the movie, while rather heartwarming, makes little sense, as it involves Santa getting dragged back to the North Pole by a tow truck.

Pierre makes a rather entertaining villain who seems modeled after McLeach, the poacher from The Rescuers Down Under, right down to the disgruntled animal sidekick and our last shot of him in the movie. I found it hard to keep most of the dogs straight, but it’s not really all that important; the majority of the pooches are just filler to get to that magic number that is the same as the reindeer. I like intrepid Agnes, voiced by one of the regulars on the wonderful kids‘ show Jakers!, and Buzz has a couple of good moments, but the rest of the elves are inconsequential.

There’s also the matter of the music. The over-the-top love ballad seemed like something out of the cringe-worthy From Justin to Kelly, and the repeated song about “sticktoitivity” is a strange combination of rap and power ballad that doesn’t seem to gel at all and annoyed my mom hugely. Gary Morris, who wrote the songs, has won a Grammy for his work before, but that background is not evident here.

It wasn’t a terrible way to spend an hour, but I’ve certainly seen better Christmas specials. Unless you’re really hard up for something Christmassy, I’d skip Nine Dog Christmas.

Cuteness Abounds in Biscuit's Christmas Eve

When it comes to lift-the-flap books with canine protagonists, I always think first of the Spot books by Eric Hill. With bright, cheerful pictures and short, simple sentences, these stories take us through several everyday adventures by the little yellow puppy with a distinctive spot in his fur. Another popular canine character for youngsters is Biscuit, a light brown puppy that looks like it may be a Cocker Spaniel. Biscuit is more realistic-looking than Spot and is often featured in easy readers aimed at a slightly older audience than the Spot books. In Biscuit’s Christmas Eve, however, the left-the-flap format is in place, and the text is simple enough to line up with Hill’s.

Like the rest of the books in the series, Biscuit’s Christmas Eve is written by Alyssa Satin Capucilli. Illustrations, meanwhile, are by Mary O’Keefe Young and Pat Schories. While Spot lives with his parents in an anthropomorphic household, Biscuit is a pretty realistic puppy who lives with a little girl. In this book we see the two of them preparing for Christmas together. For each two-page spread, there is a single flap on the page on the right, always in the same position.

There’s nothing particularly unique about this book, which isn’t so much a story as a catalog of traditional Christmassy images with Biscuit and his young owner inserted. We get to see Christmas tree decorations and discover that Biscuit particularly likes the ball. He impedes the hanging of the stockings by playing tug of war and gets tangled in the Christmas lights. Carolers turn up at the door to share their Christmas tidings, with a reward of some tasty Christmas cookies. There’s also a roaring fireplace, a Christmas story before bed and a homemade Christmas gift for the girl’s parents.

Alongside all of these nice cozy expressions of a traditional Christmas celebration, there are hints throughout the book at the deeper meaning of the holiday. For instance, there is a Nativity scene on the mantlepiece and an angel on the tree, and at one point, the girl queries, “Do you hear what I hear?” There’s nothing very overt, but it’s nice to have some acknowledgment of the religious significance of Christmas.

Biscuit’s Christmas Eve is a very short but cute book that should appeal to fans of the sweet little puppy. It’s not a board book, so exercise caution when giving it to children young enough that they might be tempted to rip the flaps clean off. If they’ve never encountered Biscuit before, chances are that they will soon have a new cuddle-worthy character to embrace.

Clifford Endangers Then Helps Santa in Clifford's Christmas

Clifford’s First Christmas is a story that takes fans of the Big Red Dog created by Norman Bridwell back to his first Christmas, which occurred when he was still firmly in itty-bitty puppyhood. That book was published recently, but it is best enjoyed when paired with a more classic Clifford holiday offering: Clifford’s Christmas.

Clifford’s Christmas is a pretty typical book for the series. In simple prose, Emily Elizabeth serves as our narrator, telling us about her ginormous dog Clifford and how she celebrates Christmas with him. The book is more reflective than narrative, though the progression of the season gives the story shape. Christmas begins with Thanksgiving for Emily’s family; from that point on, Clifford finds plenty of ways to celebrate the season, though given his size, not all of his merrymaking works out so well.

On the plus side, Clifford sculpts a charming snow dog. On the not-so-good side, he falls through the pond where everyone is ice skating, ruining that particular pastime for many. He is very excited for Christmas and decorates accordingly, with a tree too large to fit in Emily Elizabeth’s house, while she conspires to do some canine Yuletide matchmaking with a bit of mistletoe.

In Clifford’s First Christmas, Clifford has an encounter with Santa, who helps him out of a jam. This time, it’s Santa in need of help as he falls into Clifford’s absurdly large stocking and his toys take a tumble into his water bowl. This book is a little more action-packed than the puppy version, since adult Clifford is so destructive, albeit unintentionally. The illustrations are cute and colorful, with the most iconic picture featuring Clifford in a custom-fit Santa suit.

“Clifford is a wonderful dog,” Emily Elizabeth tells us. “He makes every day Christmas Day.” With that in mind, Clifford’s Christmas is a book that works any time of year, but young Clifford fans should find it especially satisfying as the close of the year approaches.

A Very Marley Christmas Is A Very Messy Christmas

I still have yet to see Marley and Me, the 2008 Owen Wilson / Jennifer Aniston comedy-weeper based on the best-selling autobiographical book that I have yet to read. I love dog stories. But I’ve been warned that both are very emotional, as they follow the life of this particular dog from adoption to death, so I’ve been somewhat hesitant. However, I had no qualms with picking up A Very Marley Christmas, which merely focuses on the Christmas of Marley’s puppyhood.

John Grogan, author of Marley and Me, also wrote this picture book, which is illustrated by Richard Cowdrey, whose cheerful paintings fill large portions of the pages while still leaving room for several paragraphs. This is a book for slightly older readers, around the 6-to-9 range, though it might be a good read-aloud for younger kids. Marley, a yellow lab known for his knack for getting into loads of mischief, is up to all sorts of tricks in this book, interfering at every turn with the holiday plans of his “parents” and their children, young Cassie and baby Louie.

Most of the book simply details Marley’s various destructive antics. In this respect it reminds me a bit of Clifford, but while the big red dog wreaks havoc wherever he goes by accident, simply because of his size, there’s a sense that this little pup delights in disaster, even if he doesn‘t quite invite it. He spills decorations and plays tug-of-war with the Christmas tree, which he eventually comes to see as his own personal piddling post. He tangles the Christmas lights and tinsel - admittedly, not very difficult to do - and chews up a string of snowflakes made by Cassie. At every turn, he’s doing something to aggravate his family, whose frustration with him leaks out in verbal outbursts. One wonders how much of this two reasonable humans can take.

Of course, by the end of the book, we’ve arrived at a happy resolution in which all is forgiven. The change of heart is tied to a sudden snowfall, as well as the family members’ ability to be easy-going and laugh when many people would feel like screaming. The emphasis on forgiveness and the chronicling of mistakes many pet owners have had first-hand experience with make this a sweet and fun book for those who would always prefer to spend Christmas with a canine companion, even if that means putting up with a little chaos.

Rachel Hale and Jane Gerver Serve Up Christmas Cuteness in Santa Paws

There are lots of things most children can be counted upon to love. Christmas is one of them. Kittens and puppies are two more. In Santa Paws, Rachel Hale, who has created many calendars celebrating our fuzzy, cuddly four-legged friends, offers up a 20-page book for toddlers who are enthusiastic about all three.

Santa Paws is a sturdy board book consisting of 10 two-page spreads featuring puppies, kittens or both. Each spread has a four-line poetic stanza in large, white type set against a red, green or blue background. The photography for which Hale is known jumps out vividly from the pages, sure to delight any youngster fond of these lovable pets.

Author Jane Gerver’s writing style is pleasant, with short stanzas whose rhythm is generally consistent. An example: “Puppies chase kittens, / Kittens chase mice. / Have you been naughty / Or have you been nice?” Among the photographs, my favorites include a group of puppies and kittens bundled up in scarves and another bunch of them wearing wings as they are depicted as “angels”. There’s also a rather classy shot of a black-and-white kitten playing the piano, and a picture of a Jack Russell Terrier hanging his head in shame elicits sweet sympathy.

Essentially this is a collection of 10 vignettes with little connection to each other. It’s an opportunity to gaze at some adorable creatures, not to hear a great story. There’s essentially no plot, but considering the very young target demographic for this book, that might not be a huge issue.

Children on the younger end of the 1-to-4-year-old spectrum can just have fun looking at the pictures; older kids might want to come up with descriptions of their own. For those with pets, perhaps reading the book could serve as inspiration for a family Christmas card, with the kids using Hale’s example to come up with possible poses and captions.

This is a very short book that should earn a smile from pet lovers. For older readers, particularly teens and adults, who appreciate the visual element of this book, I recommend Bradley Trevor Grieve’s Every Day Is Christmas, but Santa Paws is worth a little pause from dog and cat afficianados of all ages.

Dogs Help Crack the Case in Nate the Great and the Crunchy Christmas

I’ve read several different children’s mystery series, from Encyclopedia Brown to the Boxcar Children. But I’d only ever heard of Nate the Great until I read Nate the Great and the Crunchy Christmas, which appears to have been the 18th book in the series, which is designed for children who are advanced enough to read independently but aren’t quite ready for chapter books. Written by Marjorie Weinman Sharmat and Craig Sharmat and illustrated by Marc Simont, the approximately 40-page-long book finds young detective Nate distracted from the job of shoveling his driveway by the arrival of a friend in need.

That pal is Annie, the owner of Fang, a large, tough-looking pooch who intimidates Nate. Fang is out of sorts, which Annie insists is because he has not yet received a Christmas card from his mother. Don’t ask how, in a world where canines aren’t even capable of speaking, a dog can send Christmas cards; that is one particular mystery on which Nate can shed no light. But he is determined to figure out what exactly happened to the letter that Annie insists must have arrived.

With 40 pages to fill, Nate has time to try out every trick in the trade, but the ultimate solution is quite simple, reminding me of the book The Berenstain Bears and the Missing Dinosaur Bone. In both cases, the detectives’ four-legged sidekicks prove to be essential in finally cracking the case. Hence, this book is as much for dog lovers as mystery fans, with plenty of commentary on dog behavior, whether it’s the tendency to bark at the mailman or an uncatlike willingness to wear silly costumes.

Most of the sentences in the book are fairly short, often taking up just one line, and repetition is frequently used for emphasis and humor. For instance, when he investigates Annie‘s catalog collection, Nate notes, “Some of the catalogs were for dogs. Christmas food for dogs. Christmas toys for dogs. Christmas clothes for dogs. Fang must be on a mailing list.”

Fang is the most amusing character in the cartoonish illustrations, always a cross between foreboding and cuddly. He looks like a German shepherd without any color variation in his fur, and he’s charmingly complacent as he sits outside in the snow in a tiny hat and jingle bell collar. Also worth a laugh is Rosamond, an eccentric friend of Annie’s whose Christmas tree is decorated with several live cats.

While Rosamond and Annie are preparing for Christmas, Nate celebrates Chanukah. This doesn’t come into the story much, but it’s an interesting element, particularly when he mentions eating potato pancakes. The lights in his window at the end of the book are also a subtle nod. For a more overt examination of friendship across faiths during the holidays, I recommend Patricia Polacco’s The Trees of the Dancing Goats, but if you like a little mystery with your “merry” and some canine with your “Christmas,” check out Nate the Great and the Crunchy Christmas.