100 books like James Herriot's Dog Stories

First published in 1956, Harry the Dirty Dog is still around and charming young readers. To avoid a bath, Harry buries the scrubbing brush in the yard and then runs away. He gets into entertaining scrapes and messes, eventually returning home so covered in dirt and soot that he is unrecognizable to his family. Panic! How will Harry convince his family that he is their missing pet? I read this on repeat to my kids when they were young, and today I also read it during library storytimes. The retro art is visually appealing and the story has just-high-enough stakes to keep kids glued to their seats.  

This is a photo-illustrated version of Jon Katz’s bestselling memoir life with dogs on a picturesque upstate New York farm. I fell immediately for this charming picture book, where each dog has their own important job. Border collie Rose herds sheep. Second border collie Izzy (a rescue with a sad-then-happy history) is a therapy dog who visits hospitals and nursing homes. Tough-looking Frieda guards the farm. But what is Lenore’s job (goes the refrain)? We finally learn that the essential job of fun-loving black lab Lenore is simply to bring love and joy to everyone. This book is basically the equivalent of a warm cup of tea and a quilt on a blustery day.

I grew up a dog lover, but today our family has one dog and one cat. I’ve learned to accept and even appreciate the differences in attitude between the two, and this beautifully-illustrated picture book celebrates them lovingly. We follow a dog and a cat throughout their day, as the dog responds an enthusiastic “Yes!” to all queries from the person of the house, while the cat gives a standoffish “No.” By the end, the roles reverse and we feel affection for both animals in their unique quirkiness. Cuddly and hopeful.

Naylor won the coveted Newbery Award for Shiloh, for good reason. The story is heartwarming, beautifully written, and timeless. When 11-year-old Marty finds a young, starving beagle near his home in the West Virginia mountains, he is faced with a moral dilemma: keep a dog who is not his or return the dog to an abusive home. One of the many reasons I love this book is Naylor does an excellent job of creating characters that are multidimensional and so very relatable. Even the “bad guy!” This is the first in a series of three books about Marty and Shiloh. Give this book to your tenderhearted, reluctant reader.

As entertaining as the PBS series about Yorkshire veterinarian James Herriott (pseudonym for author James Alfred Wight) is, the book is even better.

A blend of memoir, travelogue, and journal, Herriott’s tales of life among the farmers of England’s Yorkshire Dales are heartwarming, hilarious, and riveting. From his familial relationships with the Farnon brothers, with whom he lives, to the sometimes endearing, sometimes mercurial encounters with his patients—both the 2-legged and 4-legged variety—reading the adventures of this country vet is both informative and engaging.

You’ll go places you never imagined, want to watch the series—original and remake—all over again, and will, if you’re like me, make a solemn pledge to visit the Dales before you die! 

Though there is a supernatural element to this story, it features a dog named Tomorrow who learns about the real world in the most mundane way possible: by hanging around too long, and experiencing the inevitable loss that we all face. After his master injects Tomorrow with an immortality elixir, the two are separated, and the dog waits over a century for his companion to return. Along the way, he witnesses historical events, while meeting animals who live the innocent life he once enjoyed. By the time Tomorrow resumes his search, he is a changed dog, a person in every sense of the word, though his identity remains rooted in loyalty and love. This book makes you wonder: can you hold onto those good things after life has chipped away at you for so long?

TV’s Lassie saved children from wildfire and quicksand. Real-life service dogs save entire families from the isolation and stress of a child’s incurable illness or severe disability.

Through the vivid stories of compromised kids who blossom with highly trained dogs, Greene celebrates the canine gift for understanding us humans—rooted in 10,000 years of interspecies history but ignored by science until the recent past.

This book gripped, moved, and informed me while hitting close to home. Like my own rescue mutt, many service dogs were trained by prisoners who discovered their own best selves by teaching an unwanted animal to love. Humans and dogs need each other, as Greene shows with heartfelt but rigorous reporting. 

This is a great book about a dog named Jade who was involved in a roll-over car crash in the wilderness near Yellowstone Park. It’s an emotional and very interesting read as you learn what this desperate family had to go through to recover their lost dog, a task made all the more difficult because they (husband and wife) were injured in the car crash and because Jade was skittish and ran from anyone who tried to help her. In spite of grizzly bears, other predators, frigid nights, and potential starvation, the family managed to recruit local volunteers who ultimately helped them capture their dog.

I can’t say enough about Through a Dog’s Eyes. Read it to save your puppy from harsh training methods. Read it before you choose a training method to prepare for raising a puppy/dog.

Arnold offers a giant step forward in the humane treatment of dogs as feeling and thinking beings. Jennifer Arnold once thought methods of dominance and negative correction were necessary, but through her Canine Assistance program (a service dog organization), Arnold learned that kindness and encouragement proved the best way to train dogs.

For twenty years, Arnold adopted, raised, and taught dogs for people with special needs. Dogs showed her how to “teach” dogs to make choices, not to simply “train” to follow commands. Her dogs performed amazing feats of thinking and taking lifesaving actions.

“She died sniffing life, and enjoying it,” wrote E.B. White in his obituary for Daisy, a terrier hit by a cab while smelling a Manhattan flower shop.

White had a keen eye for the distinctive personalities of dogs, and he shared his life with many, who scamper to life in this compendium of essays, letters, and occasional pieces. My favorite of his canine characters, the curmudgeonly dachshund Fred, “saw in every bird, every squirrel, every housefly, every rat, every skunk, every porcupine, a security risk and a present danger to his republic.”

White had better-natured dogs; none got under his skin like Fred. Love can be complicated, White reminds us. Even between human and dog.