I never got it. I wanted to be the type of person who cooed excitedly upon meeting a dog, who demonstrated their humanity to all the world as they kneeled on the ground and accepted the slathers of love. But the truth was that I had absolutely no interest. So, until a fuzzy Bella jumped out of the bushes and into my life, books on dogs were the least of my interests. Not to say that I am accumulating the canine cannon, but Cool Mutts, filled with black-and-white photographs and such diverse writers as Rudyard Kipling to Sigmund Freud, offers a whimsical and touching tribute to these scrappy mavericks for all of us that get it.

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