As a puppy - and as he continues to grow, die, and be reborn a new puppy - his instincts are sharp, the most pointed towards humans; responding to them, reacting to them, obeying them, and feeding off the emotions of them. He knows right off that man trumps all other Top Dogs in his makeshift packs, that his life is completely dependent upon how his owner wants it to be; and he's ok with that, relishes it and even craves it.
"He" has various names as he navigates the very different aspects of each of his lives. He is given names and accepts them wholeheartedly but, interestingly enough, is very particular about who he chooses to attach himself too. Some extra scrutiny pointed towards my own dogs and I notice this is very much the same - other people just don't matter.
But once he leaves his most favorite person of all, he's frustrated and confused to learn that taking care of him hadn't been his ultimate purpose. What was it?! And if his life is supposed to have purpose, why did he come back only to have lives that seemingly had no purpose?
Over the span of several lifetimes - some short, some long - he experiences a wide range of the dog-life spectrum, from puppy-hood, to the family dog, to the working dog, stray dog, forgotten dog, neglected dog, abandoned dog, traveling dog, but always a good dog. He always remembered his previous lives, and the lives before that, often drawing on experiences from each to roll him into one extraordinary dog (clearly my own fur-babies are on their first life).
Research was done, and while the book isn't anything scientific, it does offer some enlightenment and heartfelt appreciation for those pooches we do make as family. And it's interesting to see some of Cameron's simply-described, yet incredibly vivid scenes play out in my own dogs, being aware of them taking their cues from our emotions, observing when they know they need to stay close as opposed to wandering more freely, and noticing when each sticks to the respective person they've deemed "theirs" (I type this as the dog I had before getting married lays at my feet).
Written simply, as though written by a dog, I often found myself needing to be reminded that it was actually written by a human. And then there were other instances where it was clearly written by a human who didn't think very highly of cats (or horses). As appropriately stated on the front cover by the author of The Color Purple, "I laughed and smiled and cried," sometimes all at the same time.
So while The Art of Racing in the Rain focused on the Mongolian belief that dogs are reborn as humans, A Dog's Purpose operates on the idea of reincarnation until their purpose is satisfied, reminiscent of what little I know of Hindu theology that a person will continue to come back and live until they have lived a "good" life. This book makes me wonder if my childhood Golden Retriever, Sam, might someday make it back to me.
As Buddy, he finally, heartbreakingly understands his purpose and is ready for peace. But his work might not be over yet....
I wasn't aware of the sequel until writing that last sentence so the sudden, rough ending of A Dog's Purpose is now understandable. Written as if Cameron wasn't sure a sequel would follow, the end is an abrupt, ragged, everything-wrapped-up-in-a-tear-stained-bow ending without really explaining why.
I emotionally rated this book on goodreads.com five stars out of five after it was the only book I actually cried after finishing as opposed to while I was finishing. After calming down and considering the blunt - dare I say, forced - ending, I'd change it to four out of five. While this read is completely worth the time and effort, and worth hauling around in your tote, animal stories - particularly dog stories - always come with a certain trepidation. Being written from the dog's perspective can ease that as well as make it worse, depending on the circumstance. Do I really want to know how he feels being dropped off at the shelter? While at the same time, appreciating his lack of understanding when he just *has* to be in the bedroom during "adult wrestling," Cameron expertly dancing between the two.
All in all, A Dog's Purpose is a great book, worth the time, and one of those rare specimens that leaves you a little altered afterward. And it's like my dogs knew I was reading about them or something, as they seem to appreciate me just a little more, too. But maybe that is just their purpose.
