Love that dog

Sharon Creech

Book - 2001

A young student, who comes to love poetry through a personal understanding of what different famous poems mean to him, surprises himself by writing his own inspired poem.

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Subjects
Published
New York : HarperCollins 2001.
Language
English
Main Author
Sharon Creech (-)
Item Description
Sequel: Hate that Cat.
Physical Description
86 p.
ISBN
9780060292874
9780060292898
Contents unavailable.
Review by Booklist Review

Gr. 3-6. In simple free verse, Jack tells his teacher that he cares nothing about poetry and sees no point in that snowy woods stuff: "Why doesn't the person just / keep going if he's got / so many miles to go before he sleeps?" . But despite himself, he's enraptured by what his teacher is reading: the beat of "Tiger, tiger burning bright" just won't go away. At the same time, he's writing poetry in his own voice about himself, culminating in a breathtaking poem about what happened to his beloved dog. At the end, Creech overdoes Jack's fawning adoration of author Walter Dean Myers, who comes to school at Jack's behest, but that won't stop kids from recognizing both Jack's new exuberance and his earlier uptight mood. Best of all, the story shows how poetry inspires reading and writing with everyday words that make personal music. This is a book for teachers to read aloud and talk about with kids. Some of the poems Jack's teacher reads are appended, including Myers' wonderful "Love That Boy." --Hazel Rochman

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

"Creech examines the bond between a boy and his dog to create an ideal homage to the power of poetry and those who write it," said PW in a boxed review. Ages 8-12. (Mar.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by School Library Journal Review

Gr 4-8-Jack keeps a journal for his teacher, a charming, spare free-verse monologue that begins: "I don't want to/because boys/don't write poetry./Girls do." But his curiosity grows quickly as Miss Stretchberry feeds the class a varied menu of intriguing poems starting with William Carlos Williams's "The Red Wheelbarrow," which confuses Jack at first. Gradually, he begins to see connections between his personal experiences and the poetry of William Blake, Robert Frost, and others, and Creech's compellingly simple plot about love and loss begins to emerge. Jack is timid about the first poems he writes, but with the obvious encouragement and prodding of his masterful teacher, he gains the courage to claim them as his own in the classroom displays. When he is introduced to "Love That Boy" by Walter Dean Myers, he makes an exuberant leap of understanding. "MARCH 14/That was the best best BEST/poem/you read yesterday/by Mr. Walter Dean Myers/the best best BEST/poem/ever./I am sorry/I took the book home/without asking./I only got/one spot/on it./That's why/the page is torn./I tried to get/the spot/out." All the threads of the story are pulled together in Jack's final poem, "Love That Dog (Inspired by Walter Dean Myers)." Creech has created a poignant, funny picture of a child's encounter with the power of poetry. Readers may have a similar experience because all of the selections mentioned in the story are included at the end. This book is a tiny treasure.-Lee Bock, Glenbrook Elementary School, Pulaski, WI (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Horn Book Review

(Intermediate) ÒI donÕt want to / because boys / donÕt write poetry. // Girls do.Ó JackÕs free-verse journal charts his evolution from doubt to delight in poetry. His teacher, Miss Stretchberry, introduces him to poetry, serves as an advocate for his writing, and flatters him into believing heÕs a poet. Like an art student diligently copying great masters, Creech has Jack borrowing liberally from the works of others (ÒBlue car, blue car, shining bright / in the darkness of the night: / who could see you speeding by / like a comet in the sky?Ó) and imitating the form (ÒI guess it does / look like a poem / when you see it / typed up / like thatÓ). Unfortunately, he is no poet, despite the bookÕs attempt to convince us otherwise. Although Jack finds a personal connection to poems, his linguistic banality restricts his expression of that link and limits his voice. His comparisons are more precious than precocious (ÒI didnÕt know about / the spell-checking thing / inside the computer. / It is like a miracle / little brain / in there / a little helper brainÓ), and, while breathless enthusiasm may show how Jack feels, his verse, as is typical of childrenÕs writing, fails to extend such personal response to more universal provocations. Still, JackÕs gradual appreciation of poetry is both natural and believable, and the sentence parsing required by the bookÕs format will be a refreshing aid to beginning chapter book readers, whose fluency is threatened by word-by-word reading. The format, generous with white space, allows the book to reach the often-required one hundred pages without containing large chunks of text. b.c. Book One From HORN BOOK, (c) Copyright 2010. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review

Versatile Newbery Medalist Creech (A Fine, Fine School, p. 862, etc.) continues to explore new writing paths with her latest, written as free verse from the viewpoint of a middle-school boy named Jack. Creech knows all about reluctant writers from her own years of teaching, and she skillfully reveals Jack's animosity toward books and poetry, and especially about writing his own poems. He questions the very nature of poetry, forcing the reader to think about this question, too. Jack's class assignments incorporate responses to eight well-known poems (included in an appendix) and gradually reveal the circumstances, and Jack's hidden feelings, about the loss of his beloved dog. Jack's poetry grows in length, complexity, and quality from September to May, until he proudly sends his best poem about his dog and a heartfelt thank-you poem to Walter Dean Myers after the author's school visit. The inclusion of the eight poems is an advantage, because comments on the poems are often part of Jack's poetry. Others not already familiar with these famous poems, though, might miss the allusions in Jack's work. (There is no note at the beginning of the book to point the reader to the appendix.) But it's a quick read, offering a chance to go back and look again. Teachers will take this story to heart, recognizing Miss Stretchberry's skilled and graceful teaching and Jack's subtle emotional growth both as a person and a writer. This really special triumph is bound to be widely discussed by teachers and writers, and widely esteemed by Creech's devoted readers. (Fiction/poetry. 9-13)

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Love That Dog Jack Room 105 -- Miss Stretchberry September 13 I don't want to because boys don't write poetry. Girls do. September 21 I tried. Can't do it. Brain's empty. September 27 I don't understand the poem about the red wheelbarrow and the white chickens and why so much depends upon them. If that is a poem about the red wheelbarrow and the white chickens then any words can be a poem. You've just got to make short lines. October 4 Do you promise not to read it out loud? Do you promise not to put it on the board? Okay, here it is, but I don't like it. So much depends upon a blue car splattered with mud speeding down the road. October 10 What do you mean' Why does so much depend upon a blue car? You didn't say before that I had to tell why. The wheelbarrow guy didn't tell why. October 17 What was up with the snowy woods poem you read today? Why doesn't the person just keep going if he's got so many miles to go before he sleeps? And why do I have to tell more about the blue car splattered with mud speeding down the road? I don't want to write about that blue car that had miles to go before it slept, so many miles to go in such a hurry. October 24 I am sorry to say I did not really understand the tiger tiger burning bright poem but at least it sounded good in my ears. Here is the blue car with tiger sounds: Blue car, blue car, shining bright in the darkness of the night: who could see you speeding by like a comet in the sky? I could see you in the night, blue car, blue car, shining bright. I could see you speeding by like a comet in the sky. Some of the tiger sounds are still in my ears like drums beat-beat-beating. October 31 Yes you can put the two blue-car poems on the board but only if you don't put my name on them. November 6 They look nice typed up like that on blue paper on a yellow board. (But still don't tell anyone who wrote them, okay?) (And what does anonymous mean? Is it good?) November 9 I don't have any pets so I can't write about one and especially I can't write a POEM about one. November 15 Yes, I used to have a pet. I don't want to write about it. You're going to ask me Why not? Right? November 22 Pretend I still have that pet? Can't I make up a pet' a different one? Like a tiger? Or a hamster? A goldfish? Turtle? Snail? Worm? Flea? November 29 I liked those small poems we read today. When they're small like that you can read a whole bunch in a short time and then in your head are all the pictures of all the small things from all the small poems. I liked how the kitten leaped in the cat poem and how you could see the long head of the horse in the horse poem and especially I liked the dog in the dog poem because that's just how my yellow dog used to lie down, with his tongue all limp and his chin between his paws and how he'd sometimes chomp at a fly and then sleep in his loose skin, just like that poet, Miss Valerie Worth, says, in her small dog poem. December 4 Why do you want to type up what I wrote about reading the small poems? It's not a poem. Is it? I guess you can Love That Dog . Copyright © by Sharon Creech. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold. Excerpted from Love That Dog by Sharon Creech All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.