Review by New York Times Review
THE SUBURBAN NEIGHBORHOOD where I grew up had leafy oak trees, manicured lawns and absolutely no fences. Which meant that I, walking to and from elementary school, had to traverse a terrifying half-mile of pet pooches free-ranging themselves from yard to yard, barking, drooling, tail-wagging and scaring the dickens out of me and my Barbie lunchbox. I was (and still might be) desperately afraid of dogs. But that doesn't mean I'm completely immune to their charms. Mabel, the canine heroine of "Naughty Mabel" by Nathan Lane (yes, that Nathan Lane) and Devlin Elliott, illustrated by Dan Krall, tries her best to be as charming as can be. Mabel is a coddled French bulldog living the good life in a schmancy McMansion, enjoying spa days, caviar and licking her privates. Her human parents call her "naughty" for misdeeds as varied as knocking over a vase of flowers and driving a golf cart into a police car's fender. One evening, the rambunctious Frenchie is put to bed so that her people can throw a glamorous soiree. Which, of course, she crashes, to smashing and crashing effect - with tipped tables, shattered dishes and a resounding intestinal eruption that closes down the joint. Her owners forgive her. I don't know why. I honestly don't. Dan Krall's illustrations are charmingly frenetic and cartoony with a palette of turquoise and pink. The big-eyed, huge-eared Mabel is adorably rendered, especially when she's wearing her magenta tutu. She is, at the same puzzling time, a typical dog (see her running with hot dogs in her mouth) and an anthropomorphized child (see her paint over a painting of Marie Antoinette). The artist has a background in animation, and it shows: The page compositions are dynamic, and the book's characters are hilariously expressive. The book certainly owes a debt of tone and structure to Kay Thompson's "Eloise" and, in turn, Ian Falconer's "Olivia." But where Eloise begins her narration, "I am Eloise I am 6," Mabel opens with a less sympathetic "Hello, darlings. Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Mabel. Mabel of the Hamptons." And where Thompson's portrait of a singular youngster has, at its heart, a story of a lonely child in an adult world, and Falconer's series is a salute to children's self-determination and imagination, I'm not quite sure what Mabel is trying to say. That it's fun in the Hamptons? That she's a party pooper? For all of Mabel's big-eared visual charm, I couldn't make any real sense of the story. Lazy Dave, in the book of the same name by a debut author and illustrator, Jarvis, is a much calmer pet. So calm, in fact, that he sleeps through practically the whole book. But that doesn't mean a lack of action: Dave is a sleepwalker, and thus, as he sleeps, he manages to have quite the time - chasing cats, walking tightropes, climbing mountains and visiting outer space. He even unwittingly apprehends a jewelry thief and is celebrated by the mayor, all of which goes unnoticed by his young owner. Dave looks a lot like "Harry the Dirty Dog," with his straight head, pert nose and midcentury-modern style. The rest of the art is equally appealing: Jarvis uses a limited color palette, textured shapes, and loose chalk and pencil lines to create a style both simple and sophisticated. Dare I say Oliver Jeffers meets Jon Klassen? I think I dare. And although, at the end of the book, both Dave and his owner remain strangely unaware of his somnambulistic heroics, the story is simply satisfying. The story of "Sad, the Dog," by Sandy Fussell, illustrated by Tull Suwannakit, is one with a similarly satisfying, if even simpler, story. "Sad" is the name of a bulldog puppy whose owners, the crotchety Mr. and Mrs. Cripps, not wanting him in the first place, pack up, relocate and leave him behind. The family who moves into their house discovers poor abandoned Sad and immediately takes him in. Every characteristic that the Cripps had considered a fault becomes, through the eyes of the new owners, a virtue. How lucky! Tull Suwannakit portrays Sad and his surroundings in soft watercolors, resulting in a calm and quiet book. Quiet, but not boring; on each page, small details draw the reader's eyes: a quizzical bird or two, a concerned mouse, a nervous garden gnome, a thoughtful face on a bunny slipper. Sad himself is sweetly painted, but the humans are oddly drawn with unreadable expressions and overly stylized in a way that I found rather disconcerting. The story of "A Dog Wearing Shoes," wonderfully told by Sangmi Ko, cinematically begins before the title page even appears. Mini and her mom find a small stray dog in the middle of a crowded street and decide to take him home. The dog, ahem, is wearing shoes. Mini and the dog have some fun together, but when she takes him to the park for a walk, he runs away, leaving one little yellow shoe behind, like a canine Cinderella. When the dog is located in an animal shelter, Mini finds it in her heart to look for the dog's original owner; the one who gave him shoes, of course. The dog and his young owner are joyfully reunited, and Mini and her mom return to the shelter in search of their own, albeit shoeless, pup. Ko's illustrations are in pencil with tiny pops of color, and adroitly straddle the line between cartoon and more illustrative art, like a drawing by Sempé. The spread where Mini and her mom give up the dog for lost is an emotional scene of long shadows and lonely white space. There's interesting pacing borrowed from sequential comics, and a lovely afterword with information about pet adoption. The dog himself is small, with a sweet face and fuzzy, floppy ears, and is so cute and gentle looking that I might be tempted to swallow my fears and go check out the pups at my local S.P.C.A. But probably not. I'm still a little scared. LISA BROWN is the illustrator, most recently, of "Mummy Cat," written by Marcus Ewert.
Copyright (c) The New York Times Company [December 6, 2015]
Review by Booklist Review
When Mini and her mother rescue a scrappy little pup from the middle of a busy street, Mini immediately falls in love with him and thinks he must not have an owner. The dog's bright yellow shoes and constant barking, however, tell a different story. Mini, I think he's missing his family, says her mom. He's my family now. I found him, Mini insists. But when they take the dog to the park, he runs off and, in Cinderella style, leaves a little yellow shoe behind. Luckily, they find him at the animal shelter, and after experiencing firsthand what it is like to lose a pet, Mini makes a concerted effort to find the dog's owner. A bittersweet reunion is followed by Mini revisiting the shelter to adopt a pooch of her own. Energetic and expressive black-and-white pencil drawings are accentuated with pops of yellow and red. Based on true events from the author's life, proving that finders are not always keepers. Includes advice on how to adopt a dog.--Mazza, April Copyright 2015 Booklist
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by School Library Journal Review
PreS-Gr 1-When Mini and her mother are driving home one day, they come across a lost dog. Though her mother points out that the dog's yellow shoes mean he probably has an owner who misses him, the young girl is determined to keep him. But after the dog runs off again, Mini realizes that she needs to track down his real family. The book ends on a happy note, however, with Mini learning a lesson about responsible pet ownership. Rendered in pencil, with splashes of color added digitally (the yellow of the shoes, the red of a leash), the black-and-white illustrations are immensely appealing. With exaggerated bug-eyed, wide-grinned expressions, Mini is wonderfully endearing, while the dog, a long-nosed little bundle of energy, will have children clamoring for their own canine companion (the appended tips on dog adoption may come in handy). This is a gently told, familiar story, though certainly one that will readily find an audience, but the visuals save it from becoming humdrum. Ko makes excellent use of shading, with detailed and sophisticated results, from the traffic jam in the opening spread to Mini's living room. Infused with movement and life, these illustrations will have kids and adults alike enthralled. VERDICT A lovely, if slightly predictable, pet story.-Mahnaz Dar, School Library Journal © Copyright 2015. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review
After spotting a scrawny dog in a swirl of city traffic and taking it home, Mini wants to call it her very own, but her mom suggests a dog with shoes must have an owner. Pencil illustrations crackle with humor even before the title page, showing the mother and daughter right before they almost hit the little doggy in its teensy yellow shoes. The two sit, eyes glazed-over, sedated by traffic boredom, when suddenly hands and arms fly skyward, sunglasses fall askew, mouths gape, brakes slam, and eyes swirl dizzy and disorientedfinally coming to rest on a panting, happy hound. Energetic artwork and evocative facial reactions make the unfolding of a lost-dog story immensely funny. With the yellow of the dog's shoes serving as the illustrations' sole color, readers' eyes end up lingering on linework and quirky background details. Mostly it's the faces children will enjoy deciphering, though, as people and pups wear wonderfully exaggerated expressions. After the dog almost gets lost again (she's a runner), Mini knows how her owner must feel and sets about finding that person, pinning posters everywhere in her neighborhood. A happy reunion and a doggy adoption bring smiles. Comedic pacing and simultaneously scrupulous and silly artwork will leave readers howling. (Picture book. 2-6) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
