Shadow

She was born under a porch, and the first thing she ever knew was the smell of her mother going away. The second was a hand — small, light as a moth — coming down to touch the top of her head. Shadow has no words. She has only the oldest grammar there is: protection, order, possession, and the patient arithmetic of strength. From her first cold morning in the wet grass she begins to build her kingdom. The yard. The warm square of sun by the back door. The old golden dog who yields to her, and the watchful little herder who never will. And at the centre of everything, the child who is hers — hers to stand over, hers to curve around, hers to keep from the storm and the dark and the whole roaring world beyond the gate. She never stops believing she is doing the right thing. That is the tragedy. Told entirely from inside a dog's mind, Shadow is the story of a love so total that it curdles into danger, and of the family who tried — for as long as they possibly could — to love her back. It is about the moment protection becomes the thing you need protecting from, and about the terrible mercy that is sometimes the only kindness left. For readers of The Art of Racing in the Rain and A Dog's Purpose who want the truth as well as the tears. A novella of approximately 26,000 words. Content note: this book portrays dog aggression, a bite injury to a child, a serious fight between dogs, and the euthanasia of a beloved animal. It does not end happily.