There are only a few books I’ve encountered in my life that merit rereading multiple times—Mrs. Mike and Gone with the Wind spring to mind—but A Dog’s Purpose: A Novel for Humans by W. Bruce Cameron is definitely one to add to my list of favorites.

I’ll admit upfront: I’m a dog lover. Over the last twenty years, we’ve owned five dogs (two of them currently) and, although I think these guys are our last, life without a dog is difficult to imagine right now. So my feelings are ready to be drawn into a story about a dog that loves his people and longs to find his reason for living.

The story in A Dog’s Purpose is told from the point of view of the titular dog throughout his four lives. Okay – I don’t believe that humans are reborn, let alone animals. If you feel like I do, don’t let that stop you from reading this book anyway. Although the premise of the dog’s four lives is integral to the story, the story isn’t about that.

Cameron keeps the concept of a canine narrator from becoming overly cutesy by keeping the dog in character as far as understanding what humans are saying. Although he’ll quote their conversations for us, he relays them rather than comprehends them. What he understands of human language is what an average dog would: his name and the commands that he’s been taught.

But the dog fathoms humans and their interactions with each other, and with animals, through other means: mainly scents (and emotions give off scents). He understands other animals in the same way, although he relates to them more on a peer level.

Tinkerbell needed constant assurance from me now that she was the only cat—several times a day I’d awaken from a nap to find her pressed up against me or, even more disconcerting, standing and staring at me. I didn’t understand her attachment to me and knew it was not my purpose in life to be a substitute mother for a feline, but I didn’t mind it much and even let her lick me sometimes because it seemed to make her happy.

The dog also learns from his experiences in each life.

I was beginning to realize that life was far more complicated than it had appeared to be in the Yard [in his first life] and that it was people who were in charge of it, and not dogs. What mattered was not what I wanted, what mattered was that I was (with) Ethan… being his companion.

And, again:

I understood that what was expected of me was to live with the new rules, the way I’d learned to live with Ethan going to do college… a dog’s job was to do what people wanted.

I read A Dog’s Purpose while we were driving through eastern Ontario on a road trip. I laughed out loud many a time and wanted to read passage after passage out loud to my husband; a few minutes later, I’d be sobbing uncontrollably with tears streaming down my face. When we made pit stops, I frantically wiped away streaked mascara and powdered as much of my face as I could to hide the red blotches. The roller-coaster emotional ride of reading this book is much like owning a dog: lots of fun and joy throughout its life, and grief at the end of it when you lose a dear companion.

I borrowed this book from my local library but I’m going to buy a copy for my shelf, to have on hand to lend to friends and to reread myself. Is this great literature? Heck, no. A great read? You bet! I recommend it for all readers, of all ages, who have ever loved a dog.

Links for my Canadian Readers:

Gone with the Wind