Nice little book about a dog who personally thinks he’s the best dog ever, but is constantly annoyed that his family members call him by different names. The father calls him by his registered name, Tarr (of Belway Smith), but the mother calls him Sweetie, and the boy he’s so attached to, calls him Cerberus. This boy likes to read, and talks with all kinds of fancy words about high adventures. Gets pestered by the mother to read less and play outside. Tarr is very jealous when a neighbor’s new dog gets admired by the family and petted when he comes by. Tarr attacks this other dog to drive it off his property, and is soundly scolded by the family. He’s so hurt by this that he runs away. Gets into all kinds of scrapes, of course. Grabbed by dognappers who try to sell him to a man that supplies animals to laboratories, then to a guy who has a pack of hounds, then finally they succeed with a private gentleman who’s looking for a new bird dog. Tarr by this point is tired of getting hauled around by suspicious-acting people, and starts to feel like he should just settle in with this new family, instead of pining for his old one. Even though they call him Blackie. But then the gentleman takes him out hunting, and finds out pretty quick he’s not a trained dog as was told, on the contrary, he’s actually very gun-shy. Tarr takes off running at the first practice shot and never looks back. He heads for home (just like a classic Lassie story) but doesn’t make it all the way, gets caught and put in the animal shelter. Where he gloomily watches other dogs come and go. One day it looks like another family with little kids will adopt Tarr, but then surprise! his own original family shows up at the last minute. Tarr is relieved to finally go home. He bristles at that neighbor dog again without getting scolded now, his family all call him by the proper name, and he gets to laze on the carpet while his boy reads books, without anyone nagging them. Such a nice ending! Good, though quite brief, story on feeling unappreciated, going through difficulties, the hardships a stray dog can experience, and how much he appreciates home when he finally finds it again. ( )

From 1969 vintage Scholastic cover:

Tarr thinks he is the greatest, smartest black Labrador retriever anywhere--until the day he meets the "kind" strangers. Then the trouble begins...

"Both men came at him at once. Tarr backed into the corner, snarling and showing his powerful white teeth...but the men were too fast for him."

Is it possible for any dog to outwit dangerous dognappers? ----

I haven't read this, yet, but I've glanced through it and can see it's not a cute little dog story for early readers. It's funny in a way adults can appreciate and very clever. The boy, Monkton, who receives Tarr as a gift from his father, is no ordinary boy with no ordinary dad:

" At the kennels, before Mr. Smith bought him, Tarr lived with a hollow feeling inside, like hunger only lonlier. Then Mr. Smith brought him home and gave him to Monkton as a present. Monkton greeted him, 'Hail to thee, Cerberus.' and right away the holow feeling wasn't there any more. That was a spring ago. By this time Mrs. Smith, smelling sweet as the lilac bush in full bloom, had come into the living room. She said to the boy in a dove-coo that voice that made Tarr want to lie down and roll over, 'Oh Monkton, I wish you wouldn't talk that way. You know it upsets your father. You know Sweetie doesn't have fifty heads.'

Mrs. Smith was not all lilac bush and dove-coo. She could make the best beef stew any dog ever tasted, and her pot roasts and steaks were drooling good. She fed Tarr twice a day at the back door, on time. Monkon was supposed to feed him and he did--choice tidbits of this and that under the dining room table. However, for regular meals, day after day, it was best to count on Mrs. Smith.

Now Mr. Smith banged his fist on the dining room table table an shouted, 'The dog's name is Tarr, Tarr of Belway. And he has ONE head.'

Family squabbles always made Tarr want out. He went to the front door at once and stood there waiting, his one head held high. Presently the boy opened the door for him, saying, 'Mind the moat, Cerberus, mind the moat,' and followed him out on the porch.

Through the screen door Tarr heard Mr. Smith talking to Mrs. Smith. 'Moat! What nonsense. This is not a castle. There is no moat around our house. That son of yours never faces reality, never. He never sees things as they really are, never. I thought a dog would help him face facts. That's the main reason I got Tarr for him. But he has not improved one bit. In fact, by George, I believe that dog is fanciful, too, and makes the boy more so!'"

Many wonderful black and white line drawings by Barbara Seuling.