The Dog Who Sang at the Opera

I have a Borzoi who has a Canine Good Citizen Certificate and is a SHARE (Special Human Animal Relationships) therapy dog. Soon we will be getting into the READ program for children in local schools where children with reading/learning problems read aloud to dogs. I bought this book for children to read to my Borzoi. It is a delightful story that captures the essence of the aristocratic Borzoi on a level that can be easily understood. Even if your child does not have a reading problem, I recommend this book for any child's enjoyment, as well as your own...

This is a great story with beautiful illustrations. Funny, charming, and entertaining for both children and adults. I bought this book for my 73 year old father who has a love of the opera and dogs. He loved it!

Smug, self-centered, perhaps even spoiled wolfhound "Pasha" is a supercilious Russian Wolfhound bred in Europe, who proclaims herself "une reine" (a queen) and looks "down her long Russian nose" at Sluggo, a cheerful "mix"--all scruffy American cheer--who looks past Pasha's haughty comparisons. "'You're a mutt,' barked Pasha." "'But it's fun being related to lots of different kinds of dogs,' answered Sluggo." The narrative is particularly well written, with lots of dialogue, characterization, humor, and tension. Illustrator Erika Oller turns in a veritable tour de force, with illustrations that somehow capture the grandeur and sweep of an opera house. Her washes and shadings, contrasted with directional and suffused light, convey the almost mystical aura of live theater. Packed with scenery and singers, Ms. Oller shows that the stage is full of excitement, commotion, and even a little confusion. In a way, the dogs become symbolic of class and racial differences, of royal Europe and upstart America. The reader may notice that the two dogs' class and "breeding" distinctions find a match in the performers' costumes. Pasha identifies so much with the woman singing of her royal pedigree ("Everyone looks at me because I am beautiful. My beauty makes me a queen.") that she begins to sing. Her howls (and I quote: "Wa-hoo, woo-hooo... Wa-hoo-woo-hooo-woo...") elicit giggles from the audience and she is pulled rather un-royally off the stage. There's your headline about wanted and unwanted attention! Pasha is dejected. However, Sluggo, a canine equivalent of the archetypal James Cagney figure, reassures her. Comforted, Pasha resumes her royal stance and deigns to say, "Spasibo..." "It's Russian for 'thank you. " Nonplussed Sluggo gets into his 1930's everyman (everydog?) vernacular: "You're welcome', answered Sluggo. "That's English for 'anytime.'" Pasha and Sluggo become friends, although Pasha retains some of her canine-centric ways about her. In yet another amazing Oller picture, Pasha lies listening--all dreamy-eyed--to Metropolitan Opera House broadcasts. "And as she listens, she remembers what a beautiful voice Manon had...for a human." West and Izen base their book on a truer-than -usual event that occurred on September 26, 1997. The authors were onstage as puppeteers during a Metropolitan Opera House staging of "Manon," and a dog really did begin to howl during the festival scene. "The Dog Who Sang at the Opera" closes with a newspaper article describing "Passion's" interruption of diva Renee Fleming, in which she is quoted as saying "I told the director, `it's the dog or me,'" and stating whether she couldn't decide whether this was the most humiliating or complimentary experience of the opera. Life imitates art! Fortunately, there is a letter (dated October 17, 1997) from Ms. Fleming printed on the penultimate page, in which she explains that not only was her "dog or me" proclamation said tongue in cheek, but that she is a

This book is magic. The story is charming and the illustrations are stunning. I have given the book to all my nephews and nieces and they love it.