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Nose Down, Eyes Up
Villard, 320 pp., 2008; $24

It's always "beer-thirty" for Gill, the underemployed commitment-phobe at the center of Merrill Markoe’s new novel, Nose Down, Eyes Up. Launched by his own stunning lack of maturity and a dog-ona- mission named Jimmy, Gil ricochets through a tidy plot that has him bouncing like a pinball between his longtime girlfriend Sara, a well-meaning animal communicator, and his ex-wife Eden, “a sexual idiot savant”—with an entertaining rebound into the heart of his dysfunctional family in Sedona.

This is classic Markoe terrain and a perfect bookend to Walking in Circles Before Lying Down (Villard, 2006). As in her previous novel, this anti-hero can talk to dogs, and one of the wickedest consequences of his talent is how it throws into relief Sara’s abilities.When a Chihuahua named Cecile “tells” Sara she’s not eating because of emotional issues, Gil hears that the new holistic dog food tastes like soap.

Most voluble among the dogs is Jimmy, whom Gil raised from puppyhood. The square-headed black dog with wavy fur, something of a canine motivational speaker, offers advice for securing walks, treats and bed privileges.“Memorize this phrase: ‘Drop nose, raise eyes.’ It’s the cornerstone of my teachings,” Jimmy tells the neighborhood hounds.

But Jimmy’s confidence in the way things work is shaken when he discovers Gil is not his biological dad. Clearly rattled, he explains, “I figured I was in a transitional phase, like a caterpillar larva. That one day I’d wake up, lose a lot of this hair, and start walking on my hind legs. Maybe get a set of keys and learn to drive.” Being told he’s property —“Like a lawn mower or a vacuum cleaner? Like a slave?”—doesn’t improve the situation.

When Jimmy reconnects with his actual DNA, dog and man are forced to redefine the true meaning of family, especially the reconstituted kind wherein dogs play a central role. In the wrong hands, this could have been saccharine territory, but not with Markoe, who slathers her warm fuzzy insights in a funny, tart sauce.

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This article first appeared in The Bark,
Issue 52: Jan/Feb 2009
Lisa Wogan lives in Seattle and is the author of, most recently, Dog Park Wisdom. lisawogan.com
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