Book Review: Chicken Soup for the Cat and Dog Lover's Soul

A Fair Trade Book



Title: Chicken Soup for the Cat and Dog Lover's Soul

Editor: Jack Canfield

Editor's web site: http://jackcanfield.com/welcome.html

Date: 1999

Publisher: Health Communications

ISBN: 1-55874-710-9

Length: 403 pages

Illustrations: several cartoons

Quote: “When Agnes celebrated her one-hundredth birthday, Mattie” [a dog],” herself a senior citizen and still a regular visitor, came to celebrate...Agnes...stroked the now-grizzled head resting in her lap.”

We all know what to expect from the “Chicken Soup for the Soul” series, and this volume shouldn't disappoint anyone. Here are cats, dogs, and also horses and parrots and other companion animals, who defied the odds just by surviving; who gave old people something new to live for; who gave children confidence; who adopted their own smaller animal “pets”; who found humans from whom they'd been separated for years; who warned their humans of danger, one even in a visionary way after the animal was dead; who guided their humans through physical hardships; who summoned help when their humans were injured; whose stories, generally, answer the question “Why do people love other animals so much?”

Snakes don't become real pets—they're probably not wired to feel love or loyalty, and if big enough they're apt to repay those who taught them not to fear humans by eating their human housemates—but most snakes are harmless to humans in any case, and in this book we meet a tame snake who gave a troubled teenager social status.

Rabbits are seldom considered much more emotionally rewarding pets than snakes, but in this book we meet a rabbit who knows when a child could really use a good cuddle.

Ducks are famous for the ease with which they abandon their humans, but in this book we meet a faithful duck who ignores the wild ducks at the pond and, even when the humans try to abandon her, sticks to her human family like glue.

Cows can seem to define insensitivity, as far as humans perceive things—they literally do have skins of cowhide, which allow them to ignore, barely notice, or enjoy several things humans find painful—but here we meet cows expressing one of the emotional reactions they do feel, and express, in a way humans can recognize.

The horse who finishes a race on three legs may not be so heroic by horse standards as he is by human standards. Racing comes naturally to horses and it's not unusual for one horse, or even a whole herd, to run itself off its feet—or over a precipice. What is unusual, probably peculiar to horses that live with humans, is for a horse with a broken leg to be able to survive. Horses' faith in their ability to keep walking on a long difficult trek is another instinct that doesn't always serve horses well “in the wild,” but many a horse has, like one the Duchess of York recalls in this book, encouraged its human to keep going foot, foot, foot, until things get better. Then there's that other horse instinct that appeals so powerfully to humans—the chivalrous instinct with which huge, strong horses not only step over, but protect and comfort, smaller animals; in this book we meet a race horse pulling a 6'6” man off his feet, then quietly nuzzling a child in a wheelchair. Horses are naturally like that, too, though it must be admitted that some horses have stepped on their pet chicken or kitten...and many have stepped on their humans.

Also in this book we meet a squirrel...Rodents often pick up things that look as if they might be useful, then drop those things where they pick up food. The “pack rat” or “trader rat” is so called from its tendency to drag in, and drop, something whenever it raids a human's food supply. It can look as if the little fellows imagined that the things they carried in, which can be anything from weed seeds to antique gold watches, were payments for the food they ate and carried out. In this book we meet a squirrel who gives a friendly human an ornament. The squirrel's thinking may well have been “This is not a nut; I've never figured out what it is, or what it's for; why not see what the human does with it.” Then again, how can humans be sure that the squirrel's thinking was not “Here's something the human will like; I'll offer it to her by way of thanks for her help.”

Parrots' ability to mimic human speech is proverbially an example of meaningless noise, yet parrots do unmistakably learn, along with the sounds of human words, the contexts in which humans say them. All the “talking birds” are notoriously more likely to learn naughty words than nice words. As a child I grew up hearing stories of a parakeet who had lived with my parents before I was born, who seemed to know everybody's name—certainly his own and his less gifted mate's—and learned in just one afternoon to repeat “You come here, you stinker, you!”, but despite several attempts to teach him the phrase it took a crisis to get him to repeat, “Mommy loves the baby bird.” (And why not? He knew he was a full-grown daddy bird, of a small species, but not a baby.) As an adult I've learned that, although keeping caged birds as pets is out of fashion these days, among people who live with birds that story is still familiar. The version of it found in this book may be especially special. Parrots aren't sentimental and most of them, most of the time, probably hold a low opinion of even their favorite humans' tastes and intelligence, but when life prods them, it seems, they'll admit they are fond of their humans.

Dogs and cats whose reactions alert humans to danger are perhaps another familiar story. Cynical readers have observed for a long time that a more newsworthy, equally true, story might be one along the lines of “While the building burned Wuffles, the manager's dog, was apparently fast asleep.” The animals have naturally keen senses and normally will notice things before humans do, but there's nothing supernatural about their sensitivity—a nervous pet will alert its humans to every train that rolls along a railroad half a mile away, and a calmer pet may indeed expect its humans to be taking care of everything while the house burns down. Still there is a very solid body of true stories of pet animals knowing when to give the alarm. The one in this book is especially special. The dog doesn't merely bark or howl...

Included in this book are a few familiar animal legends; Jim the Wonder Dog, who in the late 1920s astounded people by “answering” almost any question anyone asked him (some dogs are fantastic body-language readers), and Greyfriars Bobby, who slept on his dead human's grave for years, and one of James Herriot's clients' sweetest pet cats. Here, too, are Socks and Buddy from the White House. However, most of the stories are new, contributed by “Chicken Soup” readers, who have traditionally been invited either to send in their own stories or to nominate published stories they've read.

"Chicken Soup" books sell fast and turn up as used books fast, so you might as well buy them here. Other sellers may offer better prices but when you buy Fair Trade Books here, usually for $5 per book, $5 per package, and $1 per online payment, we send $1 to the author or a charity of his or her choice. Four "Chicken Soup" books, including the earlier title Chicken Soup for the Pet Lover's Soul, should fit into one package for $25 or $26, and if you order four of them, Jack Canfield or his charity will receive $4 (assuming, of course, that his charity accepts $4 payments).