Book list
From Booklist, Copyright © American Library Association. Used with permission.

Readers familiar with Bragg's books and magazine work know his down-home humor and infectious turns of phrase. Here, a one-eyed, physical and mental wreck of a dog shows up at Bragg's family homeplace in Alabama. Clearly abandoned, the dog is seemingly untameable, but Bragg sees a bit of his own self in this dog and affords him a wide berth and a place to heal. Bragg's mother and brother think it's a bad idea, yet his mom feeds the dog a good Southern diet of cornbread, collard greens, fried okra, and catfish. After the new pup terrorizes the other farm dogs and the donkeys, runs off and sustains more injuries, it's neutering time. Speckled Beauty, or Speck, as Bragg names him, is still more or less of a hot mess, hating Bragg's brother, thunder, gunfire, and the color red. Yet, Bragg's compassion for the dog's shortcomings give Speck the time and space to relearn to belong to someone. Does the world need yet another dog book? Yes, if it's this one.

Library Journal
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Like so many strays, this "throwaway" dog named Speck had obviously been living outdoors for quite a while before he wandered onto the Alabama property of Pulitzer Prize-winning author Bragg (All Over But the Shoutin'; Ava's Man). Starving, filthy, with torn ears and multiple scars, and blind in one eye, this speckled dog stank. He chased and herded everything—the jackasses in the pasture, the resident cats, delivery vehicles, people. He dragged home stinking carcasses and peed on everything. Yet there was a bond between Bragg and Speck. Bragg had survived chemo but was wasted and exhausted by its side effects. Maybe he felt admiration for this stinky, furry survivor, or delight in the joy Speck exhibited every time Bragg looked at him. Whatever it was, there was no doubt that Speck was his dog, and he couldn't resist loving him. Bragg's story will resonate with dog lovers and with his many fans, who will recognize this book's enjoyably colloquial tone from his monthly essays in Southern Living magazine. VERDICT Highly recommended for readers who would enjoy an Appalachian Marley and Me where the dog doesn't die. Bookstores and libraries should anticipate enormous demand.—Susan Riley, formerly at Mamaroneck P.L., NY

Kirkus
Copyright © Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

The Pulitzer Prizewinning journalist and bestselling author puts a fresh spin on a classic theme: A wounded man rescues a wounded pet that in turn rescues him.Braggs engaging tale of his life with an unruly Australian shepherd is the latest of his tragicomic memoirs of his family, which began with All Over but the Shoutin and continued with Avas Man and The Prince of Frogtown. Together, these books comprise one of the finestand certainly the most comprehensivegroup portraits of a poor, White Southern clan to appear in the past quarter-century. This installment finds the 60-year-old author back in Calhoun County, living in his mothers basement (working exactly eleven steps from where I go to sleep) after bouts with pneumonia, heart and kidney failure, and non-Hodgkins lymphoma that led to chemo brain. Lonely and depressed, Bragg took in an anarchic, one-eyed, badly injured dog named Speck that had run wild in woods and pastures but stuck with him. With typically deadpan wit, the author writes, This did not mean I was his master, merely his alibi, coconspirator, bailsman, and the driver of his ambulance. Speck tried to herd a one-ton truck, picked a fight with a cottonmouth, and acted as if every wayward possum was a sign of the end times. But when Speck reveled in simple joys on his mothers farm, Bragg found that to see a living thing that happy was worth the difficulties. Their story ends with a few narrative threads droppedone involving Braggs brother Sam, who was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer during the writing of this book and died after its completionbut the abrupt conclusion doesnt diminish an estimable cycle of books. Lets hope they will someday appear in uniform editions with an introduction that would help readers see them all in context.A celebrated Southern memoirist delivers a spirited book about a hell-raising dog and his effect on the authors life. Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Kirkus
Copyright © Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

The Pulitzer Prize–winning journalist and bestselling author puts a fresh spin on a classic theme: A wounded man rescues a wounded pet that in turn rescues him. Bragg’s engaging tale of his life with an unruly Australian shepherd is the latest of his tragicomic memoirs of his family, which began with All Over but the Shoutin’ and continued with Ava’s Man and The Prince of Frogtown. Together, these books comprise one of the finest—and certainly the most comprehensive—group portraits of a poor, White Southern clan to appear in the past quarter-century. This installment finds the 60-year-old author back in Calhoun County, living in his mother’s basement (working “exactly eleven steps from where I go to sleep”) after bouts with pneumonia, heart and kidney failure, and non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma that led to “chemo brain.” Lonely and depressed, Bragg took in an anarchic, one-eyed, badly injured dog named Speck that had run wild in woods and pastures but stuck with him. With typically deadpan wit, the author writes, “This did not mean I was his master, merely his alibi, coconspirator, bailsman, and the driver of his ambulance.” Speck tried to herd a one-ton truck, picked a fight with a cottonmouth, and acted as if “every wayward possum was a sign of the end times.” But when Speck reveled in simple joys on his mother’s farm, Bragg found that “to see a living thing that happy” was worth the difficulties. Their story ends with a few narrative threads dropped—one involving Bragg’s brother Sam, who was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer during the writing of this book and died after its completion—but the abrupt conclusion doesn’t diminish an estimable cycle of books. Let’s hope they will someday appear in uniform editions with an introduction that would help readers see them all in context. A celebrated Southern memoirist delivers a spirited book about a hell-raising dog and his effect on the author’s life. Copyright © Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.