It’s true, even that dog in Tishamingo Blues gets it. It’s something most writers are warned to stay away from by publishers. I never would have really noticed, but last week I got a dog. Changes my whole view.
If the publishers are agin it, well I change my mind, I’m for it. Bring ‘em on, kick ‘em to death.
It’s like the discussion we had about research assistants (& guitar technicians): if Robert B. Parker is agin it, I’m for it.
(Though I have to say I’m a dog-owner myself. Mine’s called Boudine, which is a kind of sausage, so naturally enough she’s a dachshund, sister of the one smiling in my icon. I think if you spend much of your life sitting round reading, a dog is an essential accessory, something to keep you in touch with the living world going on around you. Something that doesn’t interrupt.)