A novel that will break your heart and gently put it back together, as a nonbinary, autistic 12-year-old foster child finds a kindred spirit in a shelter dog—and just may have found a home with two moms (one of whom is trans).
B has lived in five different foster homes and a group home after their parents’ died. They’re slow to trust, anxious, and often hyper. When their path crosses that of shelter dog Gooseberry—who is also slow to trust, anxious, and often hyper—they immediately sense a bond between them. B already wanted to be a dog trainer, and convinces new foster parents Jodie and Eri to adopt Gooseberry.
Training Gooseberry isn’t as simple as B had hoped, however. We sense their frustration—but Jodie and Eri model patience and kindness in their attitudes towards B, and B tries to be patient with Gooseberry in turn. But B is dealing with a lot, and feeling overwhelmed at school when the disruptions of changing homes frequently mean stresses and absences that other students don’t have. B also knows their brain works differently, and this makes school challenging as well. (Later in the book, B learns they are autistic.) Homophobic bullies are making school even worse. And B, who has been going by an initial ever since coming out as nonbinary, still hasn’t found a name that fits. But B has three close friends, one of whom is nonbinary, one trans, and the other who has a queer mom, and they provide important continuity and support in B’s life, a lovely example of queer community.
Will Gooseberry ever feel at home with B? Will B learn to trust that Eri and Jodie are really there for them? The book avoids wrapping things up too tidily, but gives us an ending that feels hopeful and satisfying.
Author Robin Gow (it, fae, he), who is also nonbinary and autistic and had a shelter dog as a child, says in a Dear Reader note that fae drew on personal experience to create this tale as “a love letter to autistic nonbinary kids like me,” and to fill in the dearth of dog stories with queer protagonists. Perhaps it is this connection to so many aspects of B’s character that make the first-person narrative feel as if readers are really seeing the world through B’s eyes. B’s first-person narrative feels authentically like that of a kid their age trying to make sense of the world (and I trust Gow that it is authentic to the experiences of at least some autistic, nonbinary kids in particular). Gow is also a published poet, and although this book is prose, Gow’s poetic sensibilities are evident in some of the phrases and descriptions. Overall, it feels like a master class in getting inside your character’s head and conveying that to the reader.
The book never deadnames B or indicates the gender they were assigned at birth, both of which would have been unnecessary details and examples of bad practice.
This is a highly recommended tale of personal growth, the many meanings of family, and the powerful connection that can happen between a child and a dog.
B, Jodie, and Eri read as White. One of B’s friends is Black and the other has beige skin and curly, dark brown hair.
