Some Reviews
Publisher’s Weekly (10/02/2006)
As in Matthews's remarkable debut, Fish, this novel again focuses on the lengths to which a child will go to save a beloved pet. John Hawkins is so close to his older brother, Tom, that the two dream each other's dreams. They also can silently communicate with their beloved dog, Mouse. When Tom contracts a serious (unnamed) illness, their widowed mother tells them that it's not safe to have the dog in the house, and plans to take her to the pound. So the brothers secretly hatch a plan: John and Mouse will travel by train from their northern England town to the southern coast, home to the boys' paternal uncle (whom they've never met) and ask him to keep Mouse until Tom is well. Fans of Matthews's first book will enjoy the humor that the author introduces here, from both boy and dog. John's courage and compassion drive much of the plot: on their journey, he saves a toddler from a near drowning and rescues some ponies from a fatal science experiment. The people he meets in each situation help him and Mouse further toward their destination. Some readers may be troubled by the significance of the dream-sharing, and also of Uncle David's ability to communicate with Mouse. But the bond between the brothers and their dog is as convincing as Tiger's devotion to the title fish in Matthews's first book, and readers will eagerly await the next novel from this talented author. Ages 10-up.(Oct.)
School Library Journal (10/01/2006)
Gr 4-8 -Like Matthews-sFish (Delacorte, 2004), this is a tale about a journey of discovery and the importance of holding onto the things that matter in troubled times. John Hawkins, the narrator, and his brother, Tom, have a dog that can communicate with them psychically. When Tom becomes ill, the doctor says that the pup must go, but the boys know that Mouse is essential to Tom-s recovery. To keep the canine from being sent to the pound, John and Mouse set out on a journey to find a temporary home for the dog with an uncle they haven-t seen in years. Along the way, they encounter an ineffectual New Age healer and her family, a scientist who performs experiments on stolen animals, and a persecuted Roma family who help them reach their goal. Although John and Mouse encounter some disturbing situations, the childlike tone and magical elements of the narrative keep it age appropriate. Mouse is an engaging character whose wry observations of the foibles of human beings contrast with John-s naïveté, and readers will be rooting for the pair to succeed in their quest. Highly enjoyable.-Kathleen E. Gruver, Burlington County Library, Westampton, NJ
MOUSE
Many of us have had a particularly special animal in our lives. Mouse was a member of our pack for all of her life, bar the first six weeks. I walked around the RSPCA rehoming centre in Hull several times, looking for the right puppy. Like most people, I didn't enjoy the process - it meant you had to leave them all behind when you wanted to take them all home. On this visit, I walked past Mouse who was in the first cage, as she was too small in my opinion. She was with three black and white collie cross puppies, twice the size of her, but possibly litter mates as they were all mixed together. The other puppies sat at the back of the cage, looking a bit dull. But they didn't have to do anything anyway - Mouse was yelping on behalf of them all, begging, then outraged, every time anyone walked past. Having gone round all the kennels, we passed her again on the way out. I paused. She was now not just shouting and biting the wire, she was attempting to dig the concrete beneath it to escape. My then-husband and I exchanged looks.
Once we'd made the decision, just like that, we thought we'd lost the chance... We went to the information desk to ask to see her, and when we returned with the member of staff, a girl was in the cage and had picked Mouse up and was cuddling her. The RSPCA worker was quite cross, plucked the puppy from the girl and asked her not to enter cages again without permission. Mouse was a very pretty puppy, sable with white chest, paws and chin, and the type that try to lick your chin constantly. She squeaked furiously as her version of a bark, so I called her Eek-a-mouse, (a reggae singer at the time), but that got cut down to Eeka and later Mouse. She didn't miss a step with her name changes, just as later, when we lived in France, I started to forget to speak English as I was even thinking in French, and realised I was giving her commands in that language - she still knew what I meant.
I have forgiven her about my best boot...
The Dog Behind The Book
The Mouse you read about in the book is the same character as the Mouse that was with us for so many years. She loved swimming and retrieving and never got over the sea once she discovered it; the smell drove her wild whenever we went there and it was the only time she became impossible. I am very pleased she spent her final years right near it.
Mouse watched over my children when they were small ("Why do these puppies fall over so often? Something wrong with them? And when will they be good at throwing a stick or a ball?") and kissed away tears and made them laugh; she even pulled them, as babies, in a sled, and loved it - "What, I can pull at last? Not heel all the time?"
She "rescued" my daughter's favourite soft toy from a raging, swollen river; she met a labrador like Barney in the book, and coped with her usual common sense; she rather liked my horses and ponies to talk to, but objected slightly to going out with them for walks; she followed hand signals, so you could direct her from a big distance; had a massive vocabulary of English (and a few French) words she understood, so that you could address her in quite long complex sentences, and she could remember and perform two "tasks" or requests (for example,"Mouse, go get your bone and then lie over there would you?"), something, I think you'll agree, that a quite a few children and some of us adults have problems with at times. She also learnt and remembered well; for example, she found that a stick of a certain width, carried in the jaws, might hit someone's legs in passing, or not fit through a doorway - so she would adjust it carefully in her mouth to get around this. Sticks can also be dangerous to some dogs, as they can run a sharp pointed end into their throat if they run onto it and grab it wrongly; Mouse did this once, luckily was not damaged, and in future caught sticks in her front paws and turned them sideways in the air before using her mouth safely. I used to call: "Last one, Mouse!" as I threw a ball or stick at the end of a walk; cunning Mouse appeared to look the other way as the object flew through the air, then would look upset at being unable to retrieve the object. Laura would go and find it, and throw it one more time, and going home could be delayed. Unfortunately, Laura eventually worked out what was going on!
Mouse's colouring and coat changed at about two years old, to mostly sandy and wiry, with terrier whiskers and eyebrows appearing almost overnight; her neck thickened and shortened and she sprung the big ribcage of many Jack Russells; at about 5 she had grey around the muzzle so people thought she was older than her years, except in her energy. Despite the sudden appearance of terrier, she was very tender with little creatures; when pointed towards a dying rat which had crawled into our garden, she whined sadly and tried to lick it better. Lying in a stable, a mouse ran up to her and bounced off her nose, then ran over her back. She didn't mind. She was excellent at rounding up escaped rabbits,chickens and guinea pigs, with no risk at all that she would hurt them. She was fine with her own cats, and even other people's, but would put on a convincing performance and remove "bad" ones from the garden if you asked her to. She hated foxes and managed to keep all the stock safe, except for, of course, the time we'd taken her out, and the fox cleverly sneaked in and took all but one chicken. She would go anywhere with you, crowded places, buses, trains, off the lead or on, and would wait patiently outside shops without being tied up. However, she found such things very boring and let me know about it (never by shrieking or barking, I hasten to add - just meaningful looks). She went on an aeroplane to France with us and came back on the ferry at the end of our time there, to be cruelly jailed for six months (quarantine). She'd had to have a rabies jab before we left England, and we hoped the law would change by the time we came back so she wouldn't need to be quarantined, but it wasn't changed in time, so the poor dog spent the only time in her life away from us for no good reason. Typically of Mouse, she was let out of her tiny brick enclosure after six months and acted as if nothing had happened, except that for a while she forgot to remind me about going for a walk and was surprised and delighted every time I took her out.
"Throw the ball!"
Old Seadog