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|comment= I think I have some kind of defect here, but I find the sheer idea of this kind of bond - of love - between a human and an animal somehow blasphemous, disturbing, maybe even frightening. It's probably because it's so alien to me as I never even had a pet, never mind an animal friend.   

|comment= I think you're missing a great deal, Magda. On those few occasions in my life when I've had to live without contact with animals I've found it most unsatisfying. Some of the most treasured relationships in my life have been with animals. I don't have that absolute bond with our Ridgebacks (my husband is their human) but their friendship is very precious.   

|comment= I agree completely with the review above. Martin was the quiet, consistent presence in a turbulent life. He provided the grounding that the author needed in daily life to rise above his drinking and fighting. But this is a memoir in the truest sense, rather than a dog story. And the writing is rough, but eloquent in its roughness. I had just come off skimming "Marley and Me" which disappointed me in its cliched approach to the role that pets play in our lives (and in the writing). Thomas Healy's bare, brutal prose -- the passage on his meeting with the rabbi could be a short story in itself -- was just what I needed. As the owner of a shepherd-Doberman mix, I was especially interested in Martin's behavior but I wasn't let down that the book offered far more than that. This book is a gem.