Dog Like Me

W. Bruce Cameron
Fri, 10 Apr 2015 21:00:00 -0700
Lifestyle

In order to write a book about teenage girls ("8 Simple Rules for Dating My Teenage Daughter," Workman, 2001), I had to get inside their minds, which was a bit like Queen Latifah trying to squeeze into a size 4. My basic approach was to imagine what it would be like to be angry at everything, unwilling to listen to anybody, fascinated by boys my father didn't approve of and wearing so much mascara my eyelids stuck together.
Updated: Sat Apr 11, 2015

In order to write a book about teenage girls ("8 Simple Rules for Dating My Teenage Daughter," Workman, 2001), I had to get inside their minds, which was a bit like Queen Latifah trying to squeeze into a size 4. My basic approach was to imagine what it would be like to be angry at everything, unwilling to listen to anybody, fascinated by boys my father didn't approve of and wearing so much mascara my eyelids stuck together.

My daughters loudly and vehemently hated the idea that I was writing about them, indicating they would bless the whole project only if I bought them each a new car. (To judge by their driving, they apparently thought I'd told them they couldn't have a car until they finished smashing mine.)

For my latest novel, "A Dog's Purpose" (Forge Books, July 2010), I wrote from the point of view of a dog, which believe me was far, far easier to understand than the point of view of a teenager (even though I've been a teenager!).

To get myself into the proper frame of mind, I walked around carrying a tennis ball in my mouth. Oddly, this didn't seem to endear me to anybody, even when I coughed it into people's laps. Apparently, a soggy tennis ball is somehow less appealing when a middle-aged man spits it at you, especially if he's under your table when he does so.

It was, I'll admit, a bad way to introduce myself to my neighbors, who invited me over not knowing I would show up "in character," as we professionals like to say. They were even more unhappy with the way I greeted the man's mother-in-law, although I explained several times that it wasn't that I found the woman attractive — I was merely expressing dominance.

In the novel, the main character is reincarnated several times, searching for his purpose in life. Most, but not all, of the dog's lives are as males, which meant I had to spend a fair amount of time out in my yard marking my territory. This action not only further strained my relationship with my new neighbors, but it turned out to be exhausting.

I'll note, though, that several dogs from the block wandered over to check out what I'd been up to, so I must have done something right. They painted their own scent over mine, though I decided to pass on verifying this other than visually.

It's not easy to drive a car with your head hanging out the window. Nor is it easy to explain why you're doing so to the police officer. He wasn't amused when I pointed to the tag on the dog collar I was wearing when he asked for my license and registration. I had to break character when he threatened to arrest me for a "Code 90-K" (man responding to lawful order with barking noises). He told me the book sounded really good, even if he thought the author was a moron.

He gave me a ticket for being a bad dog.

At dinnertime, I found it extremely difficult to eat out of the metal bowl on the floor — I probably should have picked something besides lasagna. I elected to use a glass for the wine, admittedly a break from how my dog did it, but it just didn't seem to me that drinking from white porcelain was any way to treat a Chianti.

There were some things I couldn't do — dogs often bite their rear-ends, for example, which if you try will get you funny looks from everyone in the room. Taking naps, though — I'm great at taking naps. And I worked for many years for General Motors, so I'm well practiced at chasing my tail.

The dog in "A Dog's Purpose" is always cheerful, which pretty much describes me unless my team is losing, and through his many lives he helps a lot of people, which I certainly can claim to have done for my daughters — I wrote a book about them!

Now that the novel is out, I figured I would give a copy to my neighbors so they'd understand why I did what I did.

Oddly, though, they haven't returned my calls.