100 books like Such a Good Boy

Every time I read this one I can hear the voice of Emmanuelle Beulque, my French publisher, while she’s reading it to me. I was in Paris, in Sarbacane’s bureau and this was a new book they were about to translate from the USA. She was so excited about it that she read it to me. Making someone read a book is one of the best things, even when you’re a grown-up.

Zorro is a lovely dog who lives a lovely life. He has his own armchair, his own toys, his own food bowl, and, most important of all, his own time for everything: morning wake up, a morning stroll, nap after lunch. But one day, it comes home a new dog…

The rhythm and rhyme are masterfully tight, making it a perfect read-aloud that captures children's attention from start to finish. Jon Agee's words and images marry harmoniously and perfectly, propelling the quirky storyline.

As someone who appreciates the impactful harmony of words and visuals from my theater and hip-hop background, I find this book a delightful example of storytelling that both children and adults can enjoy.

Jean Jullien is one of my best favorite illustrators of the moment. Everything he does, whatever it is, a book or a poster, is simply amazing. And super funny. Like this book about a dog named Ralf.

Ralf is a long, very long, dog. It takes a lot of space when he lays on the bed or simply walks around the house. At one point he’s much too long to stay home so he has to sleep outside. But one night… Ok, ok, no spoiler again!

Another book about a dog named George! This George is a sweet, well-intentioned dog who is trying very hard to be good. But oh dear, there are so many temptations. Cake! A cat. Some lovely dirt. 

“What will George do?” the book asks. And then comes the page turn. (As you can probably tell from the title, George doesn’t always make the best choices.) The kids will shout, “Oh no, George!” with me and giggle at the silly illustrations that follow, like George happily eating an entire cake. But they can also relate. Sometimes making the right choices can be hard.  

The ending is unexpected and usually starts a lively discussion. I love anything that gets kids talking to each other about books.

This is a gentle, joyful story about perseverance and growing up. 

A young boy named Peter wishes he could whistle. When he sees that another boy can whistle to get his dog to run to him, he wants to do the same with his dachshund Willie. Peter tries and tries to learn. He tries so hard his cheeks get tired. He doesn't give up and triumphs in the end.

Several other books by Ezra Jack Keats feature Peter and Willie together and they're a pair worth knowing. 

Though easy to mock for their repetitive plots and outdated societal attitudes, children of all ages devoured Enid Blyton’s mystery stories ravenously, and I was no exception. Blyton was an absurdly prolific writer, and it’s tough to pick a favourite from her expansive catalogue, but if you twisted my arm, I’d have to go with 1945’s The Mystery of the Secret Room. I still remember my excitement as I followed the five intrepid “find-outers” (and dog!) on their quest to uncover the mystery behind a fully furnished room in a supposedly abandoned house, all the while outsmarting the dim-witted local policeman, Mr. Goon. An unusual choice, perhaps, but this book, and indeed Blyton’s entire oeuvre, were a formative influence on me and sparked a lifelong love of amateur detectives.

Every list should have a lost classic, and this is mine: The tale of Baxter, the full-fledged psycho bull terrier, with, again, extended passages from the dog’s point of view. The book opens with Baxter musing:

“What if some morning as the old woman stood at the head of the staircase she were suddenly to feel a weight thrusting against the back of her legs? What if she were to lunge forward, grasping at the air, striking her thin skull against the edge of a stair?”

Bad dog. Baxter then trots over to live with the young couple across the street. That doesn’t end so well either. Then he finds true love with a kid with as little capacity for love as Baxter, and suddenly Baxter is no longer the antagonist and … the novel comes full circle. Very dark and very funny in spots and, I hate to repeat… show more.

I loved how different the three main characters are. They’re unlike anyone I’ve met in real life, all at different ages and situations, but I could relate to them immediately. My heart broke for grumpy, widowed George, pushing everyone away, and Lizzie, coming out of an abusive relationship and wondering if she dares to feel love again.

This book filled me with hope. It gave me the courage to think about some of the more painful relationships I’ve been in and consider how far I’ve come. I was also seduced by the beauty of the writing; I kept wanting to go back and reread paragraphs because the descriptions were so perfect. And it made me laugh!

This is “dog confidential” presented in charming free verse. Just like people, all dogs are different. We find this out from fourteen assorted pooches. These appealing canines, depicted in soulful, richly oil-painted illustrations, confide to the reader about their likes, dislikes, and proclivities.  Among this revealing group are a barker, a pie-eater (I can identify with that), a cuddler, a people herder, a shy shrinking violet, a sleeper—and a party animal. I know all my dogs have had different personalities, and this charming book sends that message in a most unique and appealing way. It’s a good reminder for us all about our special “best friends.”

I wish I’d known someone like Hilda as a child. Heck, I wish I’d been Hilda! She’s adventurous, she’s kind, she’s unafraid to right wrongs. She makes mistakes – how else is one to learn and grow? – but her heart is true, and she admits her errors and becomes an even better version of herself. This book is great for making you see the magical potential in truly mundane things (like the space beneath your sofa or behind your bookshelf!). The story is beautifully illustrated. I never want to leave Hilda’s world, and I’m always eager to return.