If a pup wrote a book about its owner, what would they say? Author Alison Rand’s new book, ‘Walking Alison: A Poodle’s Mostly True Story Of Helping Her Human Navigate Life’, is narrated by her sassy black poodle, bringing humor and wisdom to the tale. Dea nudges her human to engage with the world and appreciate everyday magic, even in the face of hardship. From processing grief to recovering from illness, Dea sees it all—and with deep love, shares insight that can only be gleaned from looking through the eyes of a beloved pet.
During their daily walks, new puppy Dea pulls her human, Alison, by the leash into making connections, handling crippling loss, and coping with the challenges of life. What might have been tragic through Alison’s eyes finds wider perspective and resonance through Dea’s as she tolerates Alison’s pathetic attempts at meditation and online dating, sees her through a second bout of cancer, and finally steers Alison toward appreciating life’s daily wonders that are a puppy’s birthright. Thanks to Dea’s “training,” Alison learns to finally trust herself in new and life-affirming ways, realizing that feeling safe is a conscious decision.
We were lucky enough to share a sweet excerpt from ‘Walking Alison’ below!
My mama, Alison, and I are a real team. We are a pack of two, a double– a double hit and we don’t need anyone else in our mix. Well maybe I need to sniff a few of my dog friends like Jackson the golden haired Havanese who lives in our building or Gilbert, the new standard white poodle who just moved to our neighborhood. He has a glorious scent. But at home it’s just me and my Alison. We snuggle together in the big bed and look at moving pictures inside the box at the foot of the bed. It is a heavenly time when she is right next to me.
But a while ago she ruined our perfect double and suddenly we were a triple when a big, strong, husky guy who reminded me of Boris the bulldog came into our lives. But as the proud and respectful poodle I am I didn’t dare sniff his rear, just his chest and hands. Humans are funny that way about where I can and cannot sniff them.
He came around for what seemed like forever and a day. I never understood why my mama needed to sniff him on his mouth and then they seemed to become locked together when they said goodnight. Sometimes they were so close together that I thought they were stuck with her arms around his strong body, but I guessed that was just another way humans sniffed each other. Strange are the ways of humans.
His name was Ted and he wasn’t so bad because he snuck me pieces of broccoli under the table when my mama wasn’t looking and he gave me deep backrubs even before he smashed his face on Alison’s. I liked the feel of his big sturdy hands on me. It made me feel safe and protected. But after a while, my mama wasn’t talking about him as much and then he was gone out the big front door. I was just fine with it because I had my mama all to myself again.
It was a blissful time. I liked to refer to it as The Golden Age then our Golden Age ended and we were back in the Stone Age when my Alison said, “Dea, wouldn’t it be nice if I met someone else? Someone who loved dogs and who treated us well and maybe had a yard so you could run around?” I was like, no mama please no, but she began looking at pictures of men at this place “online.” It was a special place where men put pictures of themselves looking athletic and fit and sometimes forgetting to put a shirt on. It must have been a very warm temperature “online” and they must have really needed air conditioning because they couldn’t tolerate having any shirts on their body.
I sat on her lap as she looked at picture after picture, sometimes commenting, “Dea this one says he likes dogs,” but then she would read further and found out that he didn’t do much for a living except he said he gave the ladies what they liked. What was that, I wondered?
Then one night I smelled that disgusting, sweet, cloying smell on her neck as she went out the big front door, leaving me all alone. I tried my most successful technique of beating down the door hoping she would come back to me but she left anyway.
When she returned a million years later she told me about Jeff, an eye v-e-t but for humans who only ordered a cheese plate and a glass of water. Alison thought that was odd because he asked her out for drinks. But I love a cheese plate and I love to drink cold water so I thought that was ok. When Alison finally came back through the big front door she told me they didn’t have much in common and I was thankful for that. She told me he kept squinting at her the entire evening and she kept thinking something was wrong but he kept saying, no.
I kissed her all over because she looked like she needed my sloppy kisses but my mama was home and would never, ever leave me again.
Then after a perfectly peaceful time together, one night I knew something was up because she fed me my dinner early. Don’t get me wrong, getting my dinner early was great but not as a ruse so she could go out the big front door. “Dea, I’ll be home soon,” she told me. “I am meeting a man who said he was a tenured sociology professor. With my social work background maybe, we will have things in common.” I doubted it.
Soon, what does that word even mean– if she ever comes back through the big front door again. Mama stop this insanity! But she left and in my despair all I could think to do to pass the time, after I gobbled down my kibble mixed with some chicken, rice and peas, was to take a nap. I dreamed about that beady eyed squirrel I saw earlier in the park who scurried away up the tree before I could chase it. The nerve!
When I heard the big front door open a zillion years later she looked like she was in desperate need of my kisses as she told me about her evening with the tenured sociology professor. She said his name was Matthew and when she arrived at the restaurant he was already drinking a gin and tonic at the bar. When they moved over to a table he offered to get a bottle of wine but Alison said, “a glass was fine”.
She told me they spoke about their experiences of living in another country and eventually about both of their divorces.
“I had an affair with one of my grad students, ”he said. “Well, you know how it goes.”
“No, I don’t.”
He proceeded to explain to her how it goes, something about cheating on his wife with a hot, young grad student and moving to another country with the girl.
“Frankly, I wanted to marry her, but she ended up returning to the States to see her family all the time.”
“She must have really missed them, being so far away,” Alison said, trying to put herself in the shoes of a hot, young grad student who ran off with her married professor.
“She started drinking heavily,” he said. “Waiter, another glass of wine here. Anything for you?”
“I’m good.”
“And then, can you believe it? She wanted to get a dog! A puppy of all things,” he said. “Care for dessert?”
When the check came, Matthew picked it up and paid the waiter without hesitation. At least he was not a dog-hating cheapskate. Just a dog hater.
“I’d love to see you again!? Said Mister I’m So Awful and I Hate Puppies before he went home to his nightly routine of having a brandy before tucking into bed, which did not come as a surprise to Alison, since Matthew had been drinking non-stop all evening.
“I have a nightly routine, too, she said. “ I cuddle in bed with my puppy.”
When my Alison finished telling me this ridiculous story she held me tightly and we gave each other non-stop kisses. “Dea shall we have a cookie and snuggle in bed, monkey girl?” I had my mama back all to myself. One plus one does equal perfect, especially with cookies.
