Dear Readers,

Beware of dogs on book titles and covers. Nothing wrong with glossy-coated man’s-best-friend tributes, but the unsentimental, delicately nuanced, crisply delivered Three Dog Life isn’t a baby boomer Old Yeller, even if it does elicit tears. Five years ago, Abby’s husband Rich was hit by a car while walking one of their dogs near their apartment on Manhattan's Upper West Side. He suffered traumatic brain injury, rendering him at times catatonic, quasi-cognizant, violent, poetic, maybe even psychic. Abby’s companions since Rich’s accident: three dogs. “I don’t find it ironic that the very reason Rich got hurt is the creature who comforts me,” she writes.

Yet Abby’s solitary new life near Rich’s upstate hospital isn’t pure, canine-coddled grief and anger. Her unpredictable emotional journey is dotted with joy: She relishes her unexpected independence, her awakening as a writer, and a new circle of friends. It’s a bittersweet new existence—of tremendous personal growth and devastating loss—she never expected. All the while, there’s Rich, who still has intermittent flashes of tenderness and lucidity. “I feel like a tent that wants to be a kite, tugging at my stakes,” he blurts during one visit. It’s one of many moments of overwhelming and surreal beauty that Thomas relays with brilliant restraint. Love can’t conquer all, but it survives nonetheless. This is, truly, a wonderful, moving work of art that caught me by surprise. Read it.

Justin Ravitz, Associate Editor, QPB