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My rating: 3 of 5 stars
Gotta love Roger Zelazny. I can just see him getting totally baked one day and bolting up out of his thought stew and going, "Fuck all y'all, I'm writing Sherlock Holmes/Frankenstein/Dracula/poe crossover fanfic from the point of view of Jack the Ripper's dog! Suck it!"
And then he did. This is the deceptively adorable diary of a dog, chronicling his efforts and the efforts of his master as opposing forces gather to keep the demons out, or let them in. Silly, punny – there's this bit about an owl, very close-beaked, you know, doesn't say much, keeps his pinions to himself. *facepalms violently*. This is very clearly a book from a different era, but there's an enduring quality to it. Which I guess is the long-winded way of saying that it's a classic.
And how often do I get to read something at 11 and think it's adorable, and then read it at 29 and think it's adorable? Not that often.
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